


The Phantom Thief of Insomnia

by Moon_Raccoon_exe



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU - Loqi Always Wins Cor Always Loses, Action, Comedy, Cop Cor Leonis, Cor in police uniforms and Loqi in flashy costumes what else do you WANT, Enemies to Lovers, Face-Fucking, Hate Sex, I can't write that word without hearing the meme PARKOUURRR, M/M, Mouth Kink, Parkour, Phantom Thief Loqi Tummelt, Resolved Sexual Tension, Self-Indulgent, Sexual Tension, Smut, Teasing, Thief Loqi Tummelt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:34:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 91,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26170498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moon_Raccoon_exe/pseuds/Moon_Raccoon_exe
Summary: Cor Leonis, also known as the Immortal, Marshal of the Insomnia City Police Department, holds the fame of the best detective that catches all and every single one of the criminals he sets his eye on. Mafia leaders, dangerous kidnappers, serial killers, all the big fishes fall at his feet.One day, a criminal appears in the city.It's a thief.Half his size and weight.In a circus costume.And for the sake of all Astrals, Cor justcan't catch him.The Phantom Thief of Insomnia, a burglar like no other known before, gets what he wants, catches the people's hearts, and steals Cor's attention, enjoying through time as the Marshal desperately tries to catch him, and fails over, and over, and over again.((A.K.A. AU where Cor and Loqi's rivarly stands, but Loqi is the one always winning and Cor is the one always losing obsessed with his nemesis and trying to win.))
Relationships: Cor Leonis/Loqi Tummelt
Comments: 27
Kudos: 12





	1. Incoming: The Marshal and The Phantom Thief

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for over two years (literally), wrote 90% of it last year, put it on halt, and NOW I'm posting it god DA MIM IT
> 
> At the time I was getting into Corqi, I also happened to be playing Ace Attorney: Trials & Tribulations. So it happened.
> 
> Some important points!! 
> 
> 1\. Mask☆Demasque is a character from AA:T&T. **The Mask Demasque here is not the same character** (it's not Ron DeLite, and no Ace Attorney characters are here, it's not a crossover); **I'm just taking the persona, the _concept_ of Mask Demasque** and applying it to Loqi as if it had been his idea.
> 
> 2\. City AU as in, Mayor Regis instead of King, and Police Department instead of Crownsguard. Of course, thinking in an alternate universe where cops aren't the horrible institution they are irl and are really the good guys.
> 
> 3\. I wrote this in one sole Word document, so it reached a point where it said there were too many mistakes to count, and it stopped correcting me LMAO. So if there are any typos, I apologize, as they went unseen on my second read to try to clean this because English isn't my first language.
> 
> If you've read other fics by me you know I have a horrible tendency of making years-long slow-burn fics where they don't even hug 100k into it. So I decided to post this almost all at once as a gift for y'all for dealing with me. Smoochie <3  
> And new readers too just because goddamn was this enjoyable to write.
> 
> If you're wondering the smut is in the last chapter lmao
> 
> Enjoy and let me know what you think!!
> 
> \--
> 
> -

The streets were flooding with a crowd, tension, expectation, and the Lucian police.

It was almost the perfect crime scene of any movie situation. The perimeter was secured. The building on the watch was secured as well. The streets were closed, the police cars forbidding anyone to go in or out at the same time they served of protection for any possible fight. The red and blue lights kept coming and going like a nightmare, a whirlwind of silent colors. It was night, to make it more dramatic. The people in uniform stood in their marked positions, patrolled the area, or made sure to keep the crowd on the perimeter. The light from flashlights traveled across the walls, into the windows, creeping through the dark. It was almost a perfect crime scene.

But the crowd was not supposed to be like this.  
They were not supposed to be _cheering._

One last police car arrived to the scene. Some cops opened the road to it and closed it again behind the car. The siren was going on along the alternating red and blue lights. Soon, it parked across the street from the one building under supervision. The door opened and the driver put a first foot outside.

“I don’t want _one_ soul going out of the perimeter” the order came severe and firm as soon as the officer was out of his car, talking as he closed the door and put his focus on the building. _“No one_ goes out of this place, this stupid thing ends tonight or you’ll see me _real_ mad!”  
“Hey, cool down” the other officer, who had just left the passenger seat, said while getting closer to him, yet not taking the eyes off the building. “You lose your focus, you lose the game.”  
“It’s not a game, Clarus!” the first officer exclaimed, turning to look at him with a frown. The second officer put his eyebrows up at him, and so the first one sighed and looked away. “I’m sorry, Chief. I’m just so…”

The officer didn’t finish his sentence with words, but with a frustrated groan through gritted teeth. The Chief of Insomnia City’s Police Department, Clarus Amicitia, looked at his second at command and friend since his teen ages, and could feel his frustration of _months._ His friend was very famous for how little he seemed to stress over things, how easy it was for him to keep the mind the coolest even in the direst situations. This was the only thing that could drive him crazy.  
It was, after all, an obsession.  
“It’s not healthy, you know?” Clarus said and put his eyes back on the building, scanning it. “Don’t take it so personally. It’s all the police against him, not just you, Cor.”

Cor, his second on command, clicked his tongue in response, not helping the anger.  
“He’s mocking me” he muttered with a clenched jaw. “It’s all the police, and yet, he’s always calling _me_ out from among everyone else, daring _me,_ it’s clearly a fight against me” his eyes started frantically searching through the building, each window, each bit of wall. “But I’m going to catch this fucker. I swear it on my grave!”

As much as Clarus appreciated enthusiasm on the work, he sighed subtly and rolled the eyes a little. Not that Cor tired him, but this whole…rivalry that Cor was imagining, the whole ‘nemesis’ fight with the Phantom Thief that Cor built out of seeing things, it sort of did. Plus, swearing on his own grave was quite dumb considering his moniker being ‘The Immortal’, but Clarus was not going to point this out right now. Whenever a Phantom Thief job came up, Cor lost himself into the obsession for the rest of the night and there was nothing that could take him out of that possessed state.

Cor Leonis, ten years younger than him, yet his second at command of the entire city of Insomnia in the Police Department, wearing the title of Marshal, was a good man. Kind, sweet, protective, brave like no other. Strong and unmovable, with a will that could move mountains and planets. Firm, smart, wise, and selfless to the point of sacrifice without neither second thoughts nor fears. Clarus was sure Cor would give his life to save a squirrel’s, and he would die feeling complete. Not because he didn’t value his life, but because he valued that of others’ even more, and despised accidents, and _hated_ murders, so he would not hesitate when it came to saving a life. 

Cor was calm and collected, and he did his job with pride, intelligence, and clean like no other. He could solve the most difficult trials, and could make the most dangerous of criminals seem dumb and weak. He loved justice, perhaps a little too much, and he lived the most when he caught a bad guy, because it eased his heart into the knowledge that the city was a little safer for each bad person that fell. 

He was a good guy, he really was…but he was just…a little obsessed.  
Clarus didn’t blame him, really. He understood. But the obsession was…well. Not treating Cor well.

Clarus watched Cor again when his friend once more sighed with anger at his side. There was no need to ask; it was the crowd. Despite being forced out of the perimeter, the crowd was still close enough, and loud enough to be heard. They marked the difference from any other crime scene; normally, people ran away of danger. In some cases, they stayed close, but only gasped and screamed in fear.  
But when it was about the Phantom Thief, they all…gathered around to _cheer on him._

The people of Insomnia gathered to cheer for the thief. As surreal as it could sound, that was the truth; they crowded around to try to get a glimpse of the thief, clapping and cheering on him as he made his escape.  
It drove Cor crazy. Hearing all those people cheer for the bad guy when Cor lost.  
Mostly because he _always_ lost…

“It’s gone!”

Cor’s heart skipped a beat and he became instantly too alert. He watched the man that exited the building through the main doors, in clear distress and in panic. The police around watched him attentive and tense.  
“The necklace!” the man yelled. “It’s gone!”

Immediately, there was a rise in the crowd’s gossip. Cor stayed frozen for a moment, but then it clicked on him as his heart kept skipping each every beat and speeding up.  
“Don’t stay there, go, go, go!” Cor yelled as he himself stepped further, giving orders and pointing. “Don’t let him out of this place, cover every corner, every route, even the places you don’t think are routes, cover them! No one escapes!”  
“I see him!”  
“Isn’t that him!?”  
“He’s there!”  
“You’re right, he’s there!”

Cor stayed silent and still when he started hearing the first hints from the crowd. He stopped breathing to not miss a word, but then it was not necessary. Even the cops on movement heard it, because the crowd just made that much noise when it was confirmed.  
“He’s there!” they started cheering. “On the roof!”

Cor, Chief Amicitia, and many others turned that way.  
The pair of searchlights the police were using pointed to the top of the building and met in one spot. There, the light shone on a figure.  
A human figure.  
The Phantom Thief.

The crowd burst into cheering, clapping, and whistling when he was spotted. Cor’s heart skipped yet a thousandth beat. He frowned and glared all those floors up to his self-proclaimed nemesis and rival.

Cor didn’t blame the people for the liking they had for the thief, as he was no ordinary one; whoever this was, they had taken upon a character, a persona somehow. They were not the kind to use a gun to threaten, take things, and run, no. This thief made of robbery a circus spectacle; the city as his stage, and him as the flamboyant, eccentric protagonist. In his clothes, his manners, his acts, everything made not only him but everything he did seem like a character taken from some fantasy or fiction show.

It started in their clothes, which looked a costume taken out of a videogame or comic book; a pair of long, stylish red boots, and shiny-white pants, fit to their legs. On top, a red jacket, perhaps, of tall collar, with yellow ruffles at the chest. And the most characteristic trait, a green tailcoat that he always made swing and move with elegance and flamboyance even when he wasn’t trying. The cuffs were big, yellow, with ruffled sleeves underneath. He wore white gloves, and may the world end if Clarus hadn’t seen someone make gloves look any fancier even when they weren’t a main point of focus. He wore pompous yellow tassel epaulettes, combining with a big yellow brooch at the collar. The brooch had a smiley, prankster face on it, very similar to another smaller brooch that he wore on his hat; a big hat the same green than the coat, decorated with the yellow smiley brooch, and two large, elegant white feathers. And both brooches of smiley prankster faces were but the image he wore on the face as well.

It was a mask. It was hard to tell the material, but it was not shiny, and it looked sturdy. It was all closed except for only enough space for each eye; the mask was simple, no decorations or paint, just a smiley face similar to that of the famous Comedy, but perhaps a little more…mocking. One of the most shameless fun looks that kept it clear they knew themselves a rogue, and a sneaky one. 

Needless to say, the face drove Cor crazy to his limits.

Not only was the Phantom Thief pompous and flamboyant in looks, but also his or their manners, the movements, everything about them yelled out to be a strange, charming, elegant creature.  
Knowing themselves spotted on the roof, and showing the less care, the Thief stood straight, as tall as their little height allowed, feet together, and so they opened the arms like an actor or singer showering in their crowd’s attention. The crowd cheered and clapped, and so, with another elegant if exaggerated movement, the thief sneaked a hand into their coat, pulled it out, and showed to everyone the expensive first century necklace, the centre of the museum’s current exposition that was, supposedly, under tight security.

“How do they do it!?” Cor heard someone yell in the crowd, and yes, he didn’t want to ask it aloud, but how the fuck did they do it? There were two guards at the exhibit room! He understood some miscalculations when setting guards outside buildings, even outside the exhibit rooms, but this? It was getting ridiculous, was this a real phantom that could only be seen when they so chose?

“Why is no one heading to the goddamn roof right now?” Cor roared out when he came out of his shock, realizing that they all were standing there just watching him, and he cursed himself mentally. “Somebody go stop that fucker!”  
Some cops started running, though in mild panic, as if not knowing what to do despite this being the usual at work. The thing was, and Cor didn’t admit it to himself, they knew they just wouldn’t catch him, so what does one do to catch the uncatchable?

The thief put the golden and jade necklace into a bag, showing everyone as if though about to do a magic trick. They took their hat off, revealing the blond hair curled at the tips that Cor obsessed over and hated so much, and so the thief made an extravagant move to cross the arm across his tummy, holding the hat, and bow profoundly as if thanking the audience. The people cheered louder again, and like that, the thief stood back straight and put the hat back on with all the calmness of the world.

Then, just with all the same calmness of the world, they looked down. The building was not too tall, yet it was difficult to tell who the thief was looking at. But there weren’t many options; it was either the Chief…or his Marshal.  
Cor tensed and stopped breathing, glaring up at the smiley mask looking down at him.  
Then, still as calm, the thief waved a hand at him, almost cheerfully.  
And it was enough.

“That- asshole…!” Cor muttered, and little could Clarus do to stop him when Cor was already dashing off somewhere. The Chief looked up to the thief when he clearly heard his typical trait: a laugh. Still like a character of a comic book, the thief had a passion for a mischievous, playful laugh.  
That night it wasn’t missing; he heard the echo of the joker-like, maniac giggle, and saw as the Phantom Thief turned over himself and disappeared behind the tail of his coat. 

Clarus sighed and watched the last glimpse of Cor as he disappeared behind a corner, determined to catch the thief, and yet destined to always lose at the end.

It was not that Cor was bad at his job…it was that no one could catch the people’s beloved Phantom Thief, Mask DeMasque.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After re-reading I feel it's such a weak start. Sorry!
> 
> I promise it gets better. Thanks for reading!


	2. The Cop and the Thief

Cor’s story with Mask DeMasque was popular among the people.

It was like everything joined in like puzzle pieces; Cor’s story individually, and what little they knew of the Phantom Thief individually, both things worked perfectly when joined. 

Cor was popular long before DeMasque appeared. A cop more, he didn’t call the attention at first, but he quickly raised through fame the more the time went, for one simple reason: Cor was famous for catching _every single one_ of the criminals he was sent after. There was not _one_ that had escaped him before; be it a minor pick-pocket robber or a murderer, whoever Cor put his eye on fell under his boot. By age twenty-six, Cor was already becoming second-in-command of the police department due to his historic record of caught criminals. It only increased his popularity, as people started seeing in him some legendary figure, this TV-like hero who always won. He was unstoppable.

His popularity rocketed past the skies after the legend that followed him; during a mission trying to catch a mafia leader, he was shot over twelve times. Even then, having exposed himself had successfully managed to make the mafia leader run into a trap, so even when nearly dying, Cor had caught his prey. Yet, it nearly cost him his life, taking the bullets all in the chest and across the torso. His comrades found him heaving and unresponsive, with blood coming from his mouth and all those wounds open, and eyes somewhere but reality. Even when taken to the hospital, the doctors had said he was in a grave state with low chances of surviving, and he still made it.

The event earned him the moniker of ‘The Immortal’, which he both liked as it reminded him of the second opportunity he had in life, and hated as it reminded him of that non-enjoyable event.  
With a clean record of both catching the most criminals and catching every single one he was tasked to catch, and with the story of survival, Cor was a well known officer among the people of Insomnia. He was not like a celebrity, but he had still had people approach him every now and then to ask for a photo, a sign, and sometimes a few kids appeared in mini cop uniforms like his to talk with him, everyone always cheering on him for what he was famous for: catching all and every single one of whoever he chased. 

And his story and life got a twist, of course, when the unthinkable happened: one day, he couldn’t catch one criminal.  
The officer with the record of catching everyone was unable to catch one for the first time, two years ago.  
And then again.  
And again.  
And again for _two years._

Needless to say, his reputation got dirty but his popularity increased yet again, though in a way he hated this time…because now he was not seen as the hero officer, as the unstoppable man who caught everyone. He was seen as the officer who could catch anyone in the world, except one person.  
A vulgar thief.  
Half his size and weight.  
Who didn’t even have a gun.  
A person in a circus costume.  
Cor was now known as the guy who could catch every robber, every rapist, kidnapper, drug dealer, and mafia leader…but could not catch a prankster robber in a shiny coat.

He turned from being the hero to be only Mask DeMasque’s rival. Still on first page, but no longer the protagonist. Shadowed, humiliated, taken as only the one guy that always lost. 

Mask DeMasque appeared two years ago and there was little known about…them.  
The first time they appeared, it was taken as a joke. A museum guide found a card on one of the exhibits; it was a business card like any other, except…eccentric. It had what would become the popular smiley face along some decoration, with the words ‘Salutations’ above and ‘Mask DeMasque’ with a pair of stars on the sides under the logo. On the other side, the card had a message.  
_‘You will be honored to host my robbery on March 11th, M. E. 755, in which I will steal exhibit seven from room B.’_

The museum guide thought it a joke, but still took prevention and alerted the police. The police sent a squad to keep watch on the museum; they saw no one come in, saw no one come out, yet the piece was stolen the same night the card announced.

At first, the robberies were silent; things disappeared and there was no greater act. It was as if though DeMasque was waiting to build up a certain popularity before doing his acts that were not yet usual; at first, the news would talk about the cards that were being received with threats of robbery and how it kept happening with the police unable to catch the culprit, and then, one day, DeMasque announced a robbery with a week of anticipation, as if wanting to make the news spread it so people would know, and so he would have an audience for his ‘debut’ night.

That night, DeMasque stole a painting. Small enough to fit in a sack, but a painting nonetheless. He made sure to call the police’s attention to be caught with the flashlights, and hence revealing, for the first time, his costume and whole character. The police was so startled by the sudden reveal of such character taken from TV or videogames that no one approached him at first, and it was enough for the thief to start making their escape. And, oh, they made sure to put up a show; dodged the officers with grace and elegance, made sure to make them trip and fall, they even made two officers run into each other, all while making sure the little crowd which grew bigger further the security lines watched and, after a while into the gracious escapes, even laugh.

After making fun of the police by escaping right in front of them as if though made of slime or air, DeMasque made it to a roof as was some of his favorite spots to do their acts (it was easier to see for a larger crowd) and spoke to the squad and the people around.  
“Thanks for the game tonight, and for the painting” they announced in what seemed like a more masculine, relatively young voice. “Don’t worry, I’ll return it in some days. Have a fun night, and send better troops next time!”

And so, with what would become a popular, characteristic laugh, DeMasque jumped a step back and disappeared behind the building. No one knew how they survived the fall or disappeared without touching the ground, but it only helped to boost people’s curiosity for them, and so, the popularity.

The thing with Mask DeMasque was that they always returned what they stole.  
It was not only the eccentric costume and character they were and not only the always fun sneaky way they escaped every time, but also the fact that they stole apparently just for _fun._ Like he was not a charming, eccentric character enough, he had the particular trait that everything he stole he gave back in absolute silence. He made of the robbery a spectacle, and the devolution a silent thing. If people were so into cheering for him it was because he was a strange charming character _and_ did no harm at all, because, yes, he stole important, expensive stuff, but he always gave it back. In some way, it was just some creature having fun in a strange way.

Little was known about them except for their acts that were almost magic and acrobatic shows. It was hard to even tell the gender; he seemed either a sort of feminine guy or a more or less tough girl, could be a non-binary, too, so little could they do at the police department to discard suspects further the hair color, and even that could be tricky because who was sure that it was the thief’s natural hair and not a really good wig?

Because Mask DeMasque had asked the police to ‘send better troops’ next time, the natural everyone thought about was telling Cor.  
“A thief?” he asked as if suspecting they were playing a prank on him when he was told the news. “It’s the tenth time this thief appears and you’re skipping all the detectives, the sergeants, the lieutenants, the captains, and coming straight to me to catch him because you, for the tenth time, couldn’t catch them?”  
“He’s incredible, Marshal” the officers told him. “He’s really sneaky. So we thought it was a job for you.”

Cor didn’t think too much of it. He had caught several very dangerous criminals before, a thief would be no troubles, especially one that, so far in the reports, did not seem to have a gun or even a white weapon. They said he was acrobatic, but it couldn’t possibly be that much of a job, he thought. It was really just some kid in a stupid costume.

The second time DeMasque made a physical appearance was the first time he had an encounter with Cor. 

He sent his card to an antique shop where they kept a valuable and expensive statuette. Cor took it with calm the day of the robbery, put an officer at every side of the building with himself patrolling the front area. As expected, DeMasque came out nonetheless; it startled Cor because no one saw him exit, and the Phantom Thief appeared on the roof of the _next door_ building. They noticed only because the thief, shameless, whistled playfully to call their attention. 

The cops pulled their guns out, but Cor had a strict policy; no shooting unless it was in self defense, and even then, under really strict circumstances. And this person was not aiming to cause any sort of harm, so only capturing them would do.  
“My, what do we have here?” the Thief asked loud enough to be heard. “You sent the Immortal?” then a loud ‘Hah!’ “You spoil me! This will be fun. Hello, Marshal! May I have this dance?”

Cor’s eyebrow twitched. Never had a criminal acted like this towards him. It was always either anger or insulting, never something like this. Still, that first time, he didn’t take it personally, and he set out to try and catch the stranger.  
Seen as he was not willing to surrender despite being at gunpoint, maybe because he somehow knew that they wouldn’t shoot him, Cor was forced into literally chasing him.  
He noticed that that was exactly what DeMasque wanted only when he had sneaked away.

DeMasque made sure to make a show out of it. The Thief escaped fast enough to not be caught, but slow enough so the police could keep track of him. In the way through roofs, he lost a cop, suddenly jumping off the roof and turning some times made him lose the other two, and so he was left with only Cor to capture him.  
DeMasque stopped at an open street as if waiting for Cor. When the Marshal tried to approach him, DeMasque slipped by a side. Cor tried getting him again, but DeMasque ended up slipping past him again. When Cor tried tackling him while the thief was on the run with no way to avoid it, DeMasque, out of nowhere, held to a lamppost and used it to turn around, making Cor tackle the air and fall flat on the ground. 

It ended fast; DeMasque laughed that joker laughter of his and jumped onto Cor while he was standing up to make him go back down to the ground, using him as a support only to jump past him.  
“What a compliment, being the first in your negative list, Marshal!” the thief said while Cor recovered. “Better luck next time, and salutations!”  
And with his joker laugh, he turned around and disappeared before Cor was fully on his feet again.

And that was it.  
As fast as a blink, his impeccable record was broken. 

And so the story between them started.

When questioned and when many, many, _many_ times people gasped and opened the eyes so wide it looked like they would fall off their sockets as they asked ‘You couldn’t catch them?’, Cor would dismiss it and say that he was just distracted, that it had been luck, that next time it would be. People harassed him endlessly, not on purpose, bombarding him with the same question: “You couldn’t catch them?”  
Everyone was past surprised at the Marshal’s first time not catching the bad guy in all these twenty-five years since graduating from the police academia. And it wasn’t just that the cop most famous for an impeccable capture record had finally lost for a first time, but who he had lost against. 

Next time it would be, he repeated dozens, hundreds of times. He tried to not make a big deal out of it, but a part of himself, deep inside, had _burned_ with that first lost match, and he secreatly and eagerly waited for DeMasque’s second business card. When it appeared, he was a bit too eager to pick up the mission.  
DeMasque stole a brand new telephone not yet out in the markets from a tech exposition the day before it would open. Cor started getting angry at why, if there were so many cops watching the thing, DeMasque still got out of the building. Once more, DeMasque put up their little pompous act. When they spotted Cor, they bowed with a hand holding the hat as if showing respect, before dashing off.

Cor tried chasing him, and he caught up with him many times, yes, but DeMasque was…so small, so acrobatic, and so sneaky, he made it too difficult. Once, Cor threw the arms to him very sure he was going to catch him, and the bastard made a perfect split so Cor ended up hugging the air, giving DeMasque enough time to close the legs, kicking Cor’s in the process, and throwing him down. Cor got angry when, as he recovered, he noticed DeMasque had long ago turned the phone on, and he was now taking a selfie with Cor thrown on the ground as the background.  
It angered him. It angered him because he felt the child was mocking him. 

They tried using the selfie as a clue, but the mask was too custom-made and they could only see the eyes, which was not a clue enough. Sure, the blond blue-eyed were scarce in Insomnia, but they were still plenty, and nothing made it for sure the hair and eyes weren’t part of the costume too. 

The only certain clues they had was what couldn’t be hidden or faked. Such as the height.  
After a couple times trying to catch them, Cor made some mental notes of as much info as he could gather; this person was small. They were either a teenager or a short adult. There wasn’t much he could tell of their top due to the coat and the ruffles at the chest; if this was a female, they could be hiding very small breasts, so there was no telling apart from a male. The voice led to think of a guy, definitely, but the movements and body weren’t too clear.  
The body. With no available info from the hidden face, Cor tried analyzing the body, especially the lower part as the upper was confusing.  
So besides the height he could only tell the legs. The pants and boots were rather tight. For someone small, they had long-looking, strong, but still sort of feminine legs. Like a ballet dancer’s, maybe, strong but elegant even when not trying. And…the…and the butt. Sometimes, if the tailcoat lifted or if seen from an angle, Cor had also seen the butt. Round, outstanding, firm-looking.  
Not that it was important or that he cared, but he added it to his notes because it could be important.

Failing the second time only earned more surprise both from colleagues and this time from the media as well. He was bombarded at work and by the media over and over; “you couldn’t catch them?” and as many times as he answered he was just asked again, and again, and again. It started annoying him. 

There was a third encounter, which ended up with him falling into a trap, which was falling into a sewer. Besides surprise, the same question of always “you couldn’t catch them?” was now accompanied of _laughs._ More and more harassing about the shocking news, the same question over and over, and people laughing.  
A fourth encounter, a fifth, a sixth without winning, and it had eventually if rather quickly driven the Marshal into anger, madness, and soon into obsession.

DeMasque always greeted the highest rank officer that came to try and catch him, but Cor thought that it was personal. So between DeMasque’s greeting and mocking him and people harassing and annoying him reminding him of his failures, Cor started building up the idea that DeMasque was doing this on purpose and swore him as his nemesis, his rival, as a personal fight in which they were the protagonists. 

So, taking it personal, Cor started going after him every time DeMasque left a card.

The more robberies DeMasque made and won, the more famous he became, and because Cor was there every time, it was only inevitable that they became the protagonists. Not only were people becoming fans of DeMasque, but fans of the whole Cop Chasing Thief act. They enjoyed of DeMasque’s magic a much as they enjoyed seeing Cor chase him and fail. 

People started enjoying it so much, so, so much, both DeMasque’s character and incredible robbery acts and Cor’s chasing after him, that not only a fan-base appeared, but it started growing quickly. If one searched online, there were ‘fan-arts’ of DeMasque solo mostly, and a few here and there that included Cor; Cor and DeMasque glaring at each other, DeMasque escaping as if flying with Cor watching him heroically from the ground, DeMasque fleeing while Cor tried to catch up, someone even made a fake movie poster with the two. It was getting plain, completely, absolutely _ridiculous._  
“Why do people have such a fixation on this, anyway?” Cor asked one day at his office while browsing the ‘DeMasque’ tag on an art site, seeing the hundreds of works there were a year into the thief’s debut. “It’s a fucking criminal case, not a game or a show. Why are people so obsessed with him?”

‘Why are you?’ Clarus thought about asking, but he decided to keep quiet.  
“Look, there’s even short animations” Cor continued, frowning and looking at every thumbnail of the site. “People shouldn’t be this fixated on him. He’s a criminal.”  
“Well, I do admit, he returns everything he steals” Clarus said with a shrug. Cor gave him a severe look and frown.  
“It’s not whether he returns it or not, Clarus” Cor said moodily and returned his attention to the dozens of artworks of the thief. “He’s sending the wrong message. People start idolizing him, they start idolizing the concept of a thief. Kids are seeing their older figures cheer for him, kids themselves are fascinated by his stupid costume and act, so they will grow up thinking positively of thieves, and it’ll only lead them into wrong paths in life. DeMasque has to be caught immediately, not because of his actions themselves, but to stop them from making the people cheer for the criminals.”

Cor made it sound obvious and with a lot of sense, Clarus admitted, and while he returned everything, it was still thievery, so he too agreed on catching him. It was just that, the more times Cor lost, the more emphasis, anger, and obsession he put into it. Clarus saw it as a thief job; Cor was starting to take this far, far too personally, just exactly as the people were seeing it; like some sort of Hero-Villain from TV. 

And so Cor ended up losing over and over against Mask DeMasque for two years straight, with at least one robbery per month. The quantity of stories of his DeMasque chases were abundant, some more ridiculous than others, some frustrating, some that almost felt taken out of silly children cartoons, and some where, though he was not going to admit it, Cor himself had been impressed at the ability of the thief. But not one story ended in him catching DeMasque. He had managed to get a hold of him a few times, but the thief always escaped (once, when Cor was sure he had gotten a hold of his coat, DeMasque…disappeared. Like it had been a hologram all the time. To date, Cor had yet to figure out how they did it). 

So that was him, Cor Leonis, the Marshal who had stopped every single criminal he had ever chased after, except for one joker-like thief in a mask.

And then, one day, those two years later, Cor would finally experience a different ending to one of their shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious of what Mask DeMasque looks like, here it is, just noting the few changes in the fic:
> 
> .- Full mask, so no view of the mouth  
> .- Lacking the black head cover, so his hair can be seen


	3. A Thief's Mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Mask DeMasque theme played a huge role into making me write this, I was (still am) obsessed with the theme lmao, so take the ones that inspired it so far!
> 
> [The original.](https://youtu.be/N9WZMfAGs4k)
> 
> [ **The version used in this chapter.** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GqC6feyY30)
> 
> Enjoy!!
> 
> \--
> 
> -

A millionaire received a card from Mask DeMasque.

It had been a month since DeMasque’s latest assault stealing the jade and gold necklace. When the card with the now so popular logo of the smiley face appeared on the fridge of the millionaire, she immediately reported it to the police and put the safe that DeMasque was threatening to steal in a different room. As was usual, and as were orders directly from the Marshal, whenever there was a DeMasque report, the case was reported to and taken up by Cor himself.

“What is it now?” Cor asked half-failing at hiding his exaltation, taking the report papers a bit too quickly and focusing immediately on reading through the papers.  
“In a week, DeMasque says they’re stealing a golden pocket clock from Miss Aubric, the film director” the officer that brought the papers said, a little worried at Cor’s well known obsession, but having no option. “It’s a family antique, she says. More sentimental value than monetary.”  
“That’s not stopping DeMasque, though” Cor muttered, eyes still glued to the paper. “They do it for fun, not the money.”

The officer didn’t reply. He stayed quiet waiting for any instructions. After a bit, Cor sighed and took a pencil.  
“Thanks, officer, you’re dismissed” he said and started focusing in papers and notes he was taking and making. The officer stared, a bit curious, but ended up leaving; they said the Marshal liked privacy when he was trying to come up with his plans to catch DeMasque, and judging by the state he always left his office in after making his ‘plans’, it had to be an interesting, very chaotic process.

Cor tried even before the night of the assault, he really tried. The first months, he tried to see any patterns in DeMasque’s actions. He took notes of his victims, the things they stole, the routes of escape, the possible routes of arrival, the dates of assault, the hours, the average time they took to announce their presence and the average time to disappear, Cor started taking notes even in things like how many times they laughed, what they said, if they had faltered or tripped a bit. Cor’s office, near a year into the uncatchable criminal, was a _disaster;_ papers everywhere, notes covering every inch of wall and even on the floor and furniture, and he had put a string line trying to connect things, hell, he had even sketched little maps remaking the crime scenes.

Some time later, and analyzed not only by Cor, but by the Chief, psychologists, and officers trained in logistics, they came to the conclusion that DeMasque acted under no predictable patterns. Just like his thievery acts themselves, it seemed they did it spontaneously, like a child that never thinks when they’re playing tag, and just come up with it randomly and when given the chance. As scarce info as they had on the thief, little could they work with to try and predict any future moves. Thankfully, that gave Clarus the excuse to force Cor to clean his office from the mess, but Cor remade a less chaotic though still messy version of the Paper Monster (as Clarus called his office) every time DeMasque sent a card.

Even knowing there was no predictable pattern, Cor still tried. In his words, even disorder had a pattern, even the non-predictable had logic behind it, and he was not going to give up. The problem was that DeMasque was a step ahead; Cor didn’t need to be ahead of him, just as long as he was on the same spot, that would increase the chances of catching them. He needed to think like DeMasque, so he still tried to see sense in his notes.

Cor worked during that week both in his office writing his notes, and almost daily visiting Miss Aubric’s house to analyze and explore every inch of it that he thought necessary; entry and exit routes, secret things, who had come to her house, who knew about the clock, was she expecting anyone in the following days, the neighbor houses, the streets around and, because he was so used to it, he even explored the roofs to become acquainted with them, so that they wouldn’t be unexplored territory when DeMasque would surely force him up there for their absurd chase.

And so he prepared for the millionth time trying to catch DeMasque, and swearing, for the millionth time, that this one was the good one.

That night, Cor brought police cars enough to cover a murderer on the loose scene, but it had become usual when it was about DeMasque. Sneaky enough to need more officers than the average thief, even more than some actually dangerous criminals. Two hours before the hour of theft, they secured the area and set a perimeter. There were already a few couple fans of DeMasque, eager for things to start like it was a show and not a crime scene. A few of them wore a similar mask, hat, or jacket, or some self-made merchandise of the Phantom Thief. Cor would shamelessly give them severe looks to see if they felt remorse for cheering on a criminal, but none seemed to care. 

Cor also had to give the order to please gently escort some of the fans out of buildings because they were already sneaking into nearby buildings to set up speakers.  
A year into DeMasque’s fame, not only people started drawing them and making merchandise, somebody had made a whole _music theme._ At first, it had stayed on the internet. One day, it blasted through the square of the crime scene. Like he didn’t have enough with DeMasque’s sneaky tactics, the music took him off guard the first time and startled him even more. 

The day after, he had made a public petition to not play the music on the crime scene, but no one listened; setting the speakers in nearby apartments or houses, it was considered private property and they had all freedom to listen to whatever music at whatever hour. Even the fans were goddamn sneaky, using law to pretend they genuinely wanted to listen to the music to cover how they did it specifically to make DeMasque’s thefts more ridiculous and circus-like than necessary.  
“Gotta admit it’s catchy, though” Clarus had said once while driving back to the police station the third time since they started using the music, much to Cor’s distress and anger. 

The police caught two or three fans setting speakers up, and Cor had trusted it had been all of them.

And so, Cor went into the house with the owner of the clock, DeMasque’s target, to stand in the room of the safe.

He was there for an entire hour. Cor was in the room where the lady kept the safe, and he watched it. Of course, he looked around once or twice, but never exited the room. That was how far he was taking it and how good DeMasque was at the job, that it was not enough with anything they had done before, so now Cor was going to literally watch the safe until the hour of theft; not just the house or room, the safe itself.  
Fifteen minutes before the hour, lady Aubric made him company. As much as she tried to talk at times, Cor would just hum in response, and stay still watching the safe, glaring at it as if daring the metal box.

The hour became nearer. Ten minutes. Five minutes. Three minutes.  
Standing at his spot, Cor’s arms tensed in their spot crossed onto his chest, and his jaw clenched. He frowned and felt his body become alert and active like it only did whenever he had to face his nemesis. One minute.  
Ten o’clock.

Silence. Deathly silence. The room was nothing but Cor, an officer at the back watching curiously, and the woman. And…nothing. No sound, besides the low distant murmuring of the crowd at the perimeter. No one moved, nothing changed, nothing happened. Still, Cor didn’t lower the guard. The other officers and lady Aubric started looking around as if having expected the apocalypse at ten o’clock and now looking for the slightest change in the world. Cor didn’t; he kept watching the safe. At first, he was calm, though still alert.

 _‘They could have dug into the walls somehow, and they made a hole into the safe from above or below.’_  
Hearing his brain’s paranoid theories, Cor reached for the safe and, now that he had been given the code, he started opening it; calm, as he had set officers in every room to make sure DeMasque wouldn’t do a crazy movement like what his head told him, and feeling like he had finally saved the day.  
Except when he opened the safe-  
“The clock!” lady Aubric screamed as if someone had just been shot. “The clock is not there!”

Cor wanted to curse out loud, but he was so angry he couldn’t do even that. He checked into the safe, but there were no holes in it. Instead of the clock, only a little card sat there. He took it; it was a colorful design with DeMasque’s emblem on it. It read “You’ve been had!”.  
_How the fuck-_  
Then the music blasted.

Something in Cor shrank as soon as he heard the crescendo cymbal roll; he turned around quickly just time as the lights searched around the building across the street; the music exploded into a cymbal crash and the trumpets joined the percussions into a sort of introduction or fanfare. Cor rushed to the window, not believing it, confused, as the fanfare repeated. Then, the fanfare turned into a violin that seemed to take the spotlight, as if appearing out of nowhere even though it had been playing the whole time.  
Just like DeMasque.

As the violin went up and held a single note building up tension, the lights focused on a balcony.  
And there, finally, appeared the vibrant green coat and hat.  
The violin notes started going down, and the crowd exploded in cheering as DeMasque finally appeared and opened the arms as was the usual greeting. The music turned to the violin solo going on its elegant, tango-esque melody, while the background was violin pizzicato as the contrast, adding the sensation of criminal playfulness, sneakiness, and mischief. 

Cor’s anger raised both at the blast of music that he hated so much and the sight of his enemy right across the street, but he stayed still, unable to believe it.

Across the street, with his theme playing loudly, and the crowd on the street snapping photographs and cheering, DeMasque took their hat and lifted it enough for a greeting, but not off.  
“My dear Marshal!” they greeted and extended a hand towards Cor, with the same exaggerated playful grace of always. “So you received my card!”

And then, making Lady Aubric yell again and the crowd roar louder, DeMasque pulled out in unnecessary flamboyant movements the golden clock from thin air, showing it to everyone but pretending it was coincidence and that he was just looking at it because he wanted to.  
“And you’re right on time!” DeMasque cheered, and more carefully sneaked the hand into the coat to save the clock there. “I was afraid you wouldn’t appear.”  
“You said ten o’clock!” lady Aubric yelled from her house, approaching the window beside Cor. “But you must have been here earlier, you scoundrel!”  
“I said I’d be here at ten o’clock, _not_ that I’d open the safe at that hour!” DeMasque clarified while the violin melody kept going, this time accompanied with the sound of castanets every each beat. 

Cor still watched in awe, not understanding and refusing to accept it was magic. While the crowd cheered and he heard the usual ‘How do they do it?’ from whoever, be it fanatic or officer, DeMasque looked at him again.  
“What an honor, Marshal, like every time” he said loud enough to be heard across the street and through the music. As he spoke next, he hopped past the balcony and stood on a little edge of the wall. “And be more careful tonight; that hit you took to the face last time must have left a scar!”

And so, exactly on time as the music changed and the strings grew louder in unison, DeMasque made a graceful little jump towards the close lamppost, and, laughing his characteristic joker laugh, they used it to slide down in circles.  
With an exasperated, angry growl, Cor rushed to hop past the window as well, careful but as fast as possible, to not waste time with stairs to get to the ground.  
While he was on his movement, DeMasque landed at the street, where an officer told them to freeze. All that the prankster did was show some surprise at first, and then quickly change to suddenly, with their elegance, bow while holding eye contact and take the officer’s hand. Startled and frozen by the surprise, the officer watched with a red face as DeMasque held her hand up and made the mouth of the mask give it a little kiss. Under the spell of their charm, the officer stayed still and startled while DeMasque calmly hurried their way past the frozen officer.

Cor saw, but didn’t scold the officer; it was not the first time DeMasque charmed the police to get past them. Men, women, non-binary, DeMasque seemed to use it both when they considered it fun or when they didn’t find another escape route; a look, a bow, some compliment, a ‘kiss’ to the hand or arm, and everybody would let him through.  
“I didn’t mean to!” every officer that had fallen under the spell would say afterwards, made a blushing, confused mess. “They’re just _so charming!”_

To be honest, it had happened with too much frequency to scold the officers at this point.

Cor got to the ground and looked where DeMasque had gone to. The thief was some meters away, and seemed to have waited for him to be on the ground. DeMasque saw him and Cor could feel a smile through the already smiley mask; the thief lifted the arm, then slowly raised the hand with elegance, and with a quicker movement they let it fall in a curve as they bowed the slightest, as if either wishing him luck or biding goodbye. And, as the music changed yet again, DeMasque turned around and started running.  
Cor didn’t waste time and started running after him.

With his theme playing the elegant and still joker tango, DeMasque made his way away without seeming to stress or worry too much. Some officers tried tackling them, and they just slipped away, dodged in time, or confused them until getting rid of them all. Cor watched DeMasque make three officers fall down, and then turn to see him. Cor stopped, thinking it a trap. All that DeMasque did was move the shoulders, _dancing_ to the music change. Cor’s eyebrow twitched and his heart skipped a beat at a thought; the bastard was moving like they-  
_They’ve got this **choreographed…!**_

A silly thought, really, but Cor couldn’t help his brain; the Phantom Thief had made some of the most impressive magic tricks and sneaky escapes he had seen even in TV, it was natural he’d build up crazy ideas.

Cor rushed to them again; DeMasque, having reached the perimeter setup, reached their fans, who started crowding around the thief, getting a hold or touch of the clothes or hat, loudly cheering like it was the pop-singer of the moment, and the very bastard even dared take some pens as quick as possible and made a random doodle as if singing papers, high-five others, and wave while making their way through the people.

Soon, Cor caught up with them and, not caring, started pushing the crowd apart, most of people opening the path to him, not much to clear his way, but to not get hit, but it was too late; DeMasque had already dashed away. Cor sped up and chased after them, trusting that he, with much bigger and stronger muscular legs and shape, and way taller, would catch up in no time.

Though of course, DeMasque never went in a straight line. Soon, with the music still playing in the background, the Phantom Thief turned into another street, and Cor followed through a shortcut, hoping to think like the thief and catch up.

DeMasque turned into another street, and found one end of it with officers. They turned around, but behind them appeared another set of officers. They looked at an alleyway and saw the Marshal running towards them. So, DeMasque, with a flamboyant spin over themselves, turned to one of the streets with officers and ran towards them; even though two pointed their guns, DeMasque knew too well they wouldn’t shoot, so they kept going; and even though another two tried to catch him, the thief made one of their sneaky moves as if made of rubber; first, a forward flip that served of nothing except startle the officers, then a slide through an officer’s legs, and a quick spin to both stand on the hands and shoo the officers away when they tried to get close, landed on their feet, turned around, and continued running.

The crowd that could see kept cheering, clapping at each acrobatic move, and Cor continued chasing after them, too focused to radio or scold anyone. 

DeMasque ran away enough to get close to the perimeter but, as usual, they never ran past it, as if not wanting to leave their public. Whenever they encountered officers in the way, as Cor had strategically positioned them, the thief would some or other way sneak their way past the police, each and every time. The one acrobatic that earned the most applauses was when, in an alleyway (people could see from a camera connected to a drone that a DeMasque fan brought every time to the shows to follow them around), DeMasque ran straight to the officers, jumped to the wall on the side, and used it as impulse to jump above the police and keep running. 

Laughing here and there and jumping around, sneaking their way away of the police like it was a child’s game, DeMasque kept the show up for a bit and used another lamppost and windowsills to very quickly, in acrobatic, almost artistic movements make their way up a building, with the police still following. DeMasque stopped at an edge, clearly a little startled and thoughtful, most surely not having expected to not have another roof immediately there, and hence, not in their usual final escape route.  
“DeMasque’s heading for the roofs, keep an eye on them!” Cor finally radioed while looking around to try to think like DeMasque and what they would do now. Roofs meant DeMasque was ready to say goodbye, and he couldn’t allow that.

With officers having caught up on that roof, DeMasque looked behind to them, and then down to the floor, deciding it was the only way.  
With a loud gasp from the crowd, DeMasque opened the arms and jumped off the roof, giving one roll on the air, before ‘landing’ on the awning below, rolling on it, and finally reaching the ground again, rolling when they fell as to land safely, and losing no time they kept running ahead. Officers that were at ground height started running towards them and caught up just as DeMasque reached a ladder on the wall of the building across the street and started hurrying their way up.

Officers almost got them; stretching the hands, at least four officers got a hold of them from the tailcoat, the pants, and one from a boot, but DeMasque managed to shake them all away and keep climbing up; the officers were about to climb up when Cor caught up and, not saying anything, broke through his mates and jumped to the ladder, going up as fast as he could.

The people cheered when they saw DeMasque climbing up, the jacket’s tail swinging to the side in the air, and Cor climbing some meters behind.

Soon, DeMasque reached the roof and ran forwards, and everyone thought they were ready to do their usual jumps and acrobatics through the roofs that marked the end of the show. Cor reached the roof as well and kept going towards them. The thief jumped to the near roof and continued and Cor still followed, perhaps with less grace, but with more strength and not staying behind even despite not being as young as DeMasque surely was. 

They kept going for a couple roofs until DeMasque started going up, up, and soon reaching the outside of the perimeter. Cor was too focused in catching them and not losing one second to radio about it. The music started building tension as if preparing the greatest act of them all, but Cor was not going to fall in the trick and was not going to be startled and he kept going. Soon, he reached one of the roofs neaby and started clibing up as DeMasque had done and, when he reached the last roof, he found DeMasque standing there, not running.

DeMasque stood calm at the edge of the roof, facing Cor. It did startle Cor at first, but more than anything, he thought about the way to stop DeMasque; standing at the edge would either make both of them fall, or Cor in the case DeMasque was seriously thinking about dodging to murder Cor by height fall. Normally, they ran, so Cor stood a little hesitant. The music kept going up building more and more tension and, right as it seemed to be the end of the song, DeMasque bowed the head to him and stepped backwards to fall on a standing pose off the building. 

Cor heard a gasp from the crowd, because they didn’t know either what had happened; when DeMasque reached the roofs, the drone stopped following as to not hint the police of where he was (damn accomplices), so everyone who could see from somewhere had thought the thief dropped to the void.

Cor ran to the edge and got a look down, but there was no human figure anywhere, not even the ground.  
Then, the music built tension up again, if quieter, and he heard people gasp and start cheering again; he turned, only to find DeMasque standing on top of a more distant roof, watching him. The lights spotted the thief right as the music ended, and, as it did, just exactly as if though they had had it choreographed, DeMasque took the hat off in their usual flamboyant way of moving and, holding it, they crossed the arm across their tummy and bowed profoundly to Cor.  
In the usual movement to bid goodbye.

And so, Cor stood alone on a roof, watching his enemy having just somehow teleported, biding goodbye. Now that the music was over, DeMasque stood straight again, put their hat on, and let their loud joker laugh fill the silence and echo through the streets as they turned around and ran and jumped their way away.

Cor stood still on the roof, breathless, watching the green figure grow smaller. The roar of cheering from the crowd filled the void DeMasque's laugh had left. 

Normally, it ended there.  
But it was not over tonight.  
_Not tonight._

\--

DeMasque kept running through some other roofs, escaping as far from the perimeter as they could. Carrying a small object made it easier than whenever they had to bring the sack, and while they knew how to use the sack for escapes and acrobatics, being hand-free made it easier for flips. They felt faster, more agile somehow. 

Away of the crowd, the perimeter, and the music, they used less eccentric movements and focused only in speed at first, and then slowed down to go unseen. They would hide or drop to the ground if they heard or saw a police car nearby searching for them, take their time in stealth. 

Calm and confident, they reached a point where they only walked as easy as if nothing had happened.  
For a moment, now away of the cops and the attention, DeMasque paced through a roof like it was a stroll through the park, humming to themselves, and taking out the golden clock. They made it flip up and caught it back, chuckled a bit, put it back in the pocket of their coat, and continued walking happily and calmly.

Unexpectedly, while pacing on a roof, they heard a police car’s siren ring once on the street at their back, and then heard something fall on the roof to the side. Startled, they looked at the other roof for a couple seconds.  
After a few seconds, they started smiling under the mask.  
‘No way did the Marshal follow me here!’ they thought not alarmed but rather amused, not helping a little chuckle, as if a kid finding out their older brother had lied about not playing anymore and were just silently following ready to do a jump-scare. With another little laugh, DeMasque started running, still looking at the roof next door, kept running, then turned the attention to the front-  
-and a metal tube hit them right on the face.

DeMasque ran so fast and the hit came so unexpectedly that he ran into the tube right as it swung to them, making the impact twice the hard, and immediately throwing DeMasque to the floor, pieces of the mask falling apart. 

Cor, holding the tube, stood still only a second while he watched the small figure of his nightmares thrown on the ground, not moving, but he decided to act quick to not give away the only first time he had been this close, and so he threw the tube away and hurried towards the thief.

As he got close, the person started moving a little, and Cor heard a little groan of pain or discomfort. Not feeling pity, Cor got on them fast, straddling them, and pinned them to the ground with a hand to their chest, and the other flying back to look for the cuffs.

While he did, however, DeMasque reacted to being pinned down and pulled the head and his hands up quickly, eyes flying wide open.  
“Wait!”

For some reason, maybe the adrenaline of it, or maybe how hearing them speak made Cor realize this was happening for real and he couldn’t believe it, or maybe because his voice from up close sounded different than usual, and somehow way too pleasant, or maybe the hit of realization that this was an actual human being and not a phantom, whatever it was, at the plea, Cor stayed frozen. He looked down at DeMasque for a couple seconds.

They were watching Cor with wide, scared, and mostly shocked eyes. Cor had never seen them from this distance; they were bluer than he thought, with a hint of violet, or maybe the night made them look like that whereas at day they looked more greyish. The thief’s shock petrified Cor as much as DeMasque themselves. As soon as they had let out that yell, DeMasque had put their gloved hands up, open, as if to show they meant no harm so please don’t inflict any back.  
The mask had broken only on the lower half. It didn’t reveal their face, except from the tip of the nose down to the chin.  
And the mouth.

Cor, still breathing heavily, watched DeMasque’s mouth and his eyebrows furrowed a little.  


DeMasque stayed as frozen, the hands still up, shaking, and the mouth slightly open. He watched Cor watch their mouth. They closed it, hesitated, licked it quickly, and opened them to keep breathing as shakily as before. Cor looked back up to their eyes…but suddenly couldn’t help look back down at their mouth; the shape of the lips…they were- well, they were…something. How they shone slightly, looking well hydrated and so pretty, kind of…sloppy…the way the upper lip went up and marked the upper shape of a perfect heart. Cor tried to look at more important things like a birthmark on a cheek, near the jaw, but his eyes went back to DeMasque’s mouth again, eyebrows furrowing even more because he wasn’t sure what about them seemed to be so important.

Still catching his breath, Cor looked back at DeMasque’s eyes. The thief was still watchcing him with wide, shocked eyes, breath more calm now. Not knowing why, Cor’s body had relaxed as well, and his breath was almost steady again too. He held eye contact with DeMasque for a bit and swallowed.  
The thief eyed his mouth quickly.  
Then, in a rather quicky though still careful move, DeMasque’s hands, already up, stretched a bit more until they cupped Cor’s face, he moved up, and kissed him.

Cor stayed petrified, not kissing back…but not pulling back either.  
Out of nowhere, so suddenly, Mask DeMasque, trapped underneath him, had pulled up enough to cup his face, and he was _kissing him._  
Cor didn’t open the eyes more, didn’t pull back; he stayed still while DeMasque held his face and kissed him, gently, slow, but taking in his lips fully with no hesitation or shyness. Cor got a hold of their wrist but he couldn’t pull them away, not because DeMasque was applying pressure, but because Cor didn’t- want to.  
Part of his brain yelled that this was DeMasque’s desperate move on charming him to get away.  
Part of him shook at the sensation of those lips sucking his own.

It was suddenly overwhelming; DeMasque smelled so _nice._ It was a sweet perfume that made Cor want to bury the nose in their neck to breathe it in deeper. Their little size felt wrong; Cor felt like he had hit and was taking advantage of someone half his size, and it wasn’t fair on them. And their mouth…that goddamn mouth on his. It felt so soft, the softest Cor had ever kissed. The lips had a cushion-like silky texture that made them easy to slip between his own, attractive, even delicious if he had to dare put a tag on the sensation. They were…the cushion-like texture, it made it feel like Cor had a marshmallow between the lips, and gods, he could only control himself to not bite down on them to see if they were as squishy as it seemed. They were soft both as if Cor would drag a fingertip across them and as if he would press them. Their breath was fresh and good, not nearly as the lotion, but it made a nice combination. And the shape of their lips made it all so…overwhelming, so…captivating…

Lips the shape of a heart, gorgeous like Cor hadn’t seen or felt before in his life kissed his own, experienced, knowing how to move and how to catch his mouth, how to let his lips slip between these beautiful, teasing angels, and stealing his breath away.

Hating it and fighting against it, Cor stopped breathing and kept fighting, trying to make himself pull back…  
…but he ended up closing the eyes. Letting himself get carried away, perhaps a bit too trusty because DeMasque was trapped underneath him so it felt like there was no way for him to escape, Cor kept the eyes closed and released a bit of a breath when he could, and started kissing back. He shifted a bit in his place, and pushed gently against DeMasque’s face, kissing back. He did it slow, very dumbly, because he was still hesitant. DeMasque stopped for only a second as if to not pressure him, and it only made Cor tremble a little, hating that the thief was being so gentle with him. He started a kiss himself, and DeMasque answered as sweetly.  
_‘It’s a trap’_ Cor told himself, but he didn’t stop. He felt DeMasque very slowly and secretly starting to sneak a hand away of his face, but Cor, while not stopping the kiss, grabbed his wrists to not let them use the hands in any way.

He pushed a little more, though still softly, and DeMasque started lyinig the head back down on the floor, slow, dragging Cor along, until the thief was calmly resting on the floor with Cor hovered over him, and the kiss still going, remaining gentle but active. That was, until DeMasque sighed shakily between kisses, and Cor felt a shiver going down his spine; almost by reflex, he pushed further this time, and DeMasque complied, immediately opening the mouth when the officer kissed him more roughly, tongues shamelessly meeting and rolling against each other.

Moved by a tiny mewl of enjoyment from the thief, Cor couldn’t help a little noise at the back of his throat and another bolt through his spine. He moved his hands to the thief’s sides, keeping the wrists in them, and he pinned them to the ground. At that, he felt DeMasque smile in the kiss and sigh shortly in excitement, which did but send another shiver through Cor’s entire nervous system and encouraged him to deepen the kiss; be more assertive, go harder on him. DeMasque moved the hips a little under him and replied to the new kiss as eager and passionate.

A bit too embarrassingly, and making him go full red in the face, Cor felt his cock twitch a little, and a rush of blood going to it. He tried to not focus there, tried to ignore it so it would disappear, tried pulling away, but he just kept going. It went on until Cor was breathing tremblingly, about to start properly panting from barely catching a breath and the excitement. The thief too seemed to be enjoying, breathing just as heavily, squirming a little every now and then under him, even made a tiny noise as if an ashamed moan, and-  
_‘Cor, what are you doing…’_  
Fuck, _what_ was he doing…!?

And finally, Cor broke the spell and managed to break apart. Hating himself that it took so many attempts to get away of those silky, cushion lips, Cor pulled apart and looked away, closing the eyes and forcing himself to regain self control. Trembling a little, he cursed through clenched teeth and tightened his grip on DeMasque’s wrists a bit too harsh.  
“Fuck!” he whispered-shouted. Then, he looked at the thief, frowning. “No!” at the strange order, DeMasque just opened the eyes as if raising the eyebrows, startled. Cor freed one of the thief’s hands to use his own to reach for the back of his belt and take the cuffs. “You’re under arrest for-”

And the cuffs weren’t there.  
_No way they…!_

Too startled because he _had_ been holding DeMasque’s hands the whole time so there was no way the thief could grab them while Cor was distracted, Cor fell into the trap and got distracted while he looked behind himself as if to make sure the cuffs had really disappeared.  
Looking away gave the thief the opening and, of course, DeMasque rolled, slipped on the floor to not be under Cor anymore, all while Cor turned and yelled ‘Hey!’ and tried to jump onto him again; DeMasque sneaked away by barely a hair’s distance, reached somewhere behind Cor, and in one swift movement, as Cor was throwing himself to the thief, DeMasque closed his hands on Cor’s wrist.  
Cor’s jump stopped midways and he fell on his butt, being pulled back by his wrist-  
-which was, of _course,_ cuffed to the railing behind him.

DeMasque stepped back immediately after cuffing Cor to the railing, hands up as if still wary, eyes wide like he was watching a feral beast, but stopped when Cor didn’t jump his way.  
The Marshal looked at his wrist; that was, no doubt, his own set of cuffs.  
_No way…_  
Cor’s heart beat at the speed of light, so fast he was sure he would have a heart attack, but little did he care. He had had DeMasque pinned to the floor, he had them right there, he had finally caught them and…and…!  
_No way, no way, no way…!_

Cor tried undoing the cuffs with no success. Panicked enough, it only grew worse when he remembered he had no key; in fear that one day he would cuff DeMasque and the thief would somehow steal the key and break free, Cor left the key at his car when it was a DeMasque case.  
_No way!!_

Cor watched with _terror_ at his cuffed wrist, breath quick and heavy as if near hyperventilation, and he could do but stare in shock. He looked back at DeMasque as if pleading them with the eyes to not do it; Cor had finally done it, he had finally, _finally_ captured them, they couldn’t…they couldn’t escape now, they couldn’t do this to him, they couldn’t be so _cruel…!_

His world shattered around when he saw DeMasque start smiling. Frozen in their spot with the hands still a little up, DeMasque seemed to be eventually getting out of the adrenaline rush and shock and finally processing what just happened.  
And it pleased them.  
So they smiled.

DeMasque grinned. It was a grin that Cor had imagined a millionth times under the mask, the mask that, for the first time, he wished had stayed there; watching the real grin only made his heart race even more and his head throb harder.  
From among all humiliations DeMasque had put him through…!  
This couldn’t be happening!!

“My…” DeMasque breathed out in a chuckle. The grin widened. They chuckled again.

The chuckle turned into laughter.  
DeMasque started laughing, and the more the laughter went on, the more desperate Cor grew until he started fighting again with the cuffs in vain. DeMasque threw the head back and held their tummy while that joker laughter that had haunted Cor every night for two years straight echoed through the roofs and the alleyways nearby. Cor fought with the cuffs, he really did, but there was little he could do against them. Using the legs was useless, and DeMasque had stepped far enough to be out of reach.

After a good while being tortured with the sound of genuine, hysterical laugh from the Phantom Thief, DeMasque eventually stopped laughing. Cor watched them, trying to not show the disappointment and fear he was going through, and tried to come up with something.  
And just as if DeMasque had read his thoughts, the thief looked around for the broken pieces of their mask and collected them calmly.  
Cor could do but curse mentally; fuck, he had hoped the thief would leave those. Being the lower half of the mask, they sure had some rests of saliva that he could have had tested for DNA info and now…he didn’t have the thief, and he lost the DNA too…!?

This really could not be happening…

 _“That_ was a _really_ good and close one, Marshal” DeMasque said, voice sounding still on the masculine spectrum, and as elegant and overly dramatic as usual, but also more…genuine. Like this wasn’t the character speaking; this was the _person,_ the real person under the mask talking. Cor looked up at them, breathing through the open mouth. DeMasque stood calm and collected in their spot, smiling widely at Cor. “I applaud you, I was frightened for a second out there sure that you’d make it” and even though he sounded sincere, Cor couldn’t help the way his entrails shrank and wrenched in embarrassment, feeling mocked and humiliated. Cor looked down, unable to hold eye contact, humiliated, feeling the world still crumbling around him. “Now, don’t look so sad” he closed the eyes and lowered the head even more as if to hide from the thief. “You almost had it this time! You should be proud!”

Cor didn’t dare look, but he heard DeMasque start walking away, and with every step Cor grew angrier and sadder. He heard and saw from the corner of his eye as DeMasque stopped nearby the edge of the roof.  
“If it cheers you up a bit” the thief said, “that kiss was _amazing.”_  
Cor’s lip just twitched as his frown deepened, but he couldn’t help but still feel more embarrassed than he could feel angry.  
“Better luck next time, dear Marshal!”  
From the corner of his eye, he saw movement that made it clear what DeMasque was doing; Cor closed the eyes to not see it, but he had it fresh and clear in his head, the way DeMasque took the hat off and bowed profoundly as their goodbye.

And with a last chuckle that kept ringing in Cor’s ears for the rest of the week, DeMasque jumped off the roof as graciously as always, and disappeared.  
And that was it.  
Cor was enveloped in silence and no one and nothing but himself. As quick as that, in a blink, in one exhale, the craziest night he had had in two years ended. The effort, the chase, the adrenaline, it all…was gone now. His only victory…and it was gone like that.

His radio turned on.  
“Marshal” he heard the Chief’s voice. “Report, now. What happened?”

Cor had a free hand he could use to radio back. Yet, he spent the next hour not responding and hearing Clarus insist and worry over him.  
The first half an hour Cor spent drowned in utter shock.

The other half hour he spent trying to think of a way to tell Clarus that he was cuffed to a railing with his own set of cuffs…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case you're wondering why Loqi's mouth plays such a big role here, it IS pretty.
> 
> And if you'd never paid attention to them like maybe my overly obsessed ass did, have my [Evidence #1.](https://moonraccoon-exe.tumblr.com/post/168352635261/stephicness-loqi-lip-pr0n)
> 
> NOW you understand Cor.
> 
> You're welcome.


	4. A Waltz of No Mask

Clarus stopped at the door of Cor’s apartment and sighed.

The Chief, off uniform and in casual, waited some moments. He wasn’t sure what to expect, even less what to say because he didn’t know what mood he was going to find Cor in. He hoped, though not too much, that Cor would be much better now.

Concerned, Clarus knocked on the door. Cor already knew he was coming, had already told the guard to let him in, but he wasn’t at the door when Clarus knocked to announce he had arrived. Still, knowing his friend, Clarus opened the door and welcomed himself inside.  
He looked around and spotted Cor at the living room. With another small sigh after closing the door, Clarus approached his friend calmly.

He stood close for a few moments, watching Cor sat on his bean bag…or rather, plastered on it like he had been sat there letting himself rot and have a slow collapse for days now, body loose, with an empty shot glass in a hand, doing but be quiet and thoughtful, dead gaze lost in nowhere, and a finger to the temple holding the weight of his head.  
Clarus smiled yet his eyebrows furrowed in worry; oh Cor, the poor thing, taking things too seriously. Mature as he was, he still had to learn that things happened and it was not only fine but necessary to let go.

Clarus got closer and slapped one of Cor’s knees before sitting down on the bean bag close to his. Cor didn’t look at him. Clarus stared for a while with his gentle smile for a good while.  
“Still thinking about it” he stated. Cor looked at him, then sighed and shook the head. “Cor, it’s been a week. It’s fine, accidents happen.”  
“I had him right _there,_ Clarus” Cor said like he had been saying for a week now. “Pinned there, literally pinned to the ground, I literally just needed to cuff them, and…” he gestured with a hand, shaking the head and looking at nowhere. “…and I let them go. Even when I was winning…I lost.”  
“Cor” Clarus called and lied back on the bag. “It’s fine. We know how sneaky they are.”  
“But you didn’t see how-!”  
“No, but you’ve told me many times now how trapped and ready to be cuffed they were” Clarus raised his eyebrows at him. Cor looked at him some moments before sighing and shaking the head to look away again. “Cor…” Clarus leant forwards. “This obsession is eating you. You have to stop it.”

Cor had a lot to argue back, but he only looked away and sighed, shaking the head a little. Clarus leant back on the bean bag again, watching his friend with a little smile and worried eyes. It wasn’t pity, he told himself, because Cor hated pity, but he couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.  
“You know what?” Clarus sighed. “You’re coming with me to that party” at that, Cor looked up at him with a frown between tantrum and confusion. “The re-opening of the Grand Etro library?” Cor looked away with a pout ready to complain about what sense it had if DeMasque was surely going to rob it next month anyway but Clarus went on. “The builders, engineers, architects, and the rich families that donated for the restoration will be there, so that’s new faces for us. You could use new friends” at that, Cor gave him a moody look as if asking what he meant with that. Clarus tried to fix it with a smile. “Regis will go, too.”

Cor’s eyes moved down and he pouted, frowning. Clarus looked at him with a bit more concern for a second, but he decided that he was going to bring Cor yes or yes. He needed to free his mind from the Phantom Thief, so he had to go out of his routine even if he didn’t want to. 

With a sigh, Clarus stood up and slapped Cor’s knee, before he left to go to the Marshal’s room to ready stuff for him because he knew Cor was not going to do it to have an excuse to not go.  
“Hope you have any clean suits, Cor!”

Cor sighed, rolled facedown onto the bean bag, and mopped for the rest of the evening.

\--

The Etro library was a big old building that had been a luxurious palace around three centuries in the past.

As such, the library was not just one big bookshelf room; it had two big halls, one for each floor of the building, some resting areas, a green area, and a courtyard, besides the multiple rooms for the books and other records. It was the second biggest library of Insomnia, and it offered battle to win the title of the most beautiful. The ancient look gave it advantages and a characteristic look; the big chandeliers, the gothic style of the columns and arcs, sturdy rock railings rather than metal, wide stylish staircases instead of lineal small ones, in general the place had a look as if it was still a palace. 

The party was nearly as nice as the place itself. There were good snacks and food, and wonderful drinks, a good ambience, and enjoyable music.  
Cor managed to be distracted for a good while. His focus came and went across the start of the night, but it had been the clearest he had kept the mind since that night, and the longer he spent the night at the party, the easier it was to let himself get carried away and relax, clearing his mind and having a good time.  
He wasn’t to blame for the part of him that stayed distracted, he knew. Clarus and the others thought that it was just his obsession with not catching DeMasque, having had him pinned and still losing…and- well, yes, that was part of what kept him so down in the dumps. But what was bugging him the most was…the events of the roof.  
That damned kiss and the way he fell under the spell of DeMasque’s charm…the charm that he had thought were only exaggerations…

He had yet not told anyone about it, not even Clarus…and bottling it, keeping it caged in his head, of course it kept him distracted even days later. But he still didn’t dare explain that to anyone. He would rather Clarus think he was overly obsessed.  
Charmed by his own charge, and having kissed him and given in to that…and…having nearly grown a…hard-on, my _gods,_ how was that explainable at all…?

The place alone was beautiful and unique enough to help Cor get distracted; restoration had served the place as if though it was the first time it was built and it had never been in ruins. The music was nice, orchestral, not too loud or stressful and nothing boring either. The food was good, even if he sometimes couldn’t understand what the hell he was eating. The environment was nice, too. Normally, Cor hated to have to wear formal, but everyone made it look nice and elegant, and no one was making any drama or being rude, not so far he had interacted and heard. Being out of the uniform for once made him feel good. Never had his tailored black suit and bowtie felt this fresh. 

Regis helped a lot, too, just with his presence. To Cor, he was not the city’s mayor; Regis was a very dear friend of Cor and it had been a week since they last saw each other, and it was always enjoyable to hang with him. Truth be told, even if he didn’t look like it at first sight, Regis was the soul of the party; hanging with him was always fun. Clarus joining made it better, as they completed a trio of old friends who never ran out of jokes and things to share. Being with Clarus helped so Cor didn’t have to stand alone, and Regis helped by being approached by strangers; that way, Cor said hello to people and didn’t get bored, but it wasn’t a direct approach to him, which he hated.

Cor recognized a couple people. He wasn’t high society, but as a public figure he had either interacted with or at least knew about some of the more famous ones. He could recognize the Highwind somewhere, a family of merchants that had started little but were growing and had played a great role in the library’s restoration. The Yeagre, who had helped a bit financially and more outstanding in the donation of books and original researches. Some Nif family that had contributed with a lot of money. He saw a photographer from the Meteor magazine, too. He saw and recognized more people but didn’t pay any mind to them.

The night went calm and fun. It took only an hour before Cor’s head had cleared up completely from the things that kept him stressed and obsessed, and he decided to stay that way; for one night carefree and enjoying the party and snacks. He greeted people with genuine joy, spoke more than Clarus heard from him in the whole past week, and even shared jokes and laughed, mostly when it was just him and his two good friends. He ate what they served, enjoyed Regis’ inauguration speech, had a few drinks. At some point he reached so much calmness and enjoyment that he thought about, why not, maybe ask someone that caught his eyes for a dance or two. He didn’t dare, but it wasn’t necessary; his friends made the night far more enjoyable than he would have had at the dance floor. 

Regis didn’t fail at coming up with the strangest and funniest stories. Only that sort of weird hilarious stuff happened to him, and hell did he have many to tell. Once or twice he made Cor laugh so much he snorted and made awkward noises, which only made the three friends laugh even more. Honestly, Cor had not expected to enjoy it, and had planned to make up some excuse and leave soon, but he ended up staying almost all night. 

An hour before the ball was over, Cor was still there with his friends. Regis was a tiny bit drunk so his already hilarious stories only got an extra thanks to a more hilarious way of telling them, and Cor was loving it. The music ended and there was some clapping to the dancers. Most couples stayed at the dance floor, some exited, and some others joined the new piece as it started playing. Cor enjoyed the background sound of the orchestra from the speakers, and even, for once, the murmur of the crowd was enjoyable, as well as the noise of the dancing feet.

“Mayor Caelum!” the three friends were joined by Duscae’s mayor who approached them with a happy smile. Regis turned to see her and let out a little laugh and smile, and as joyfully greeted back, receiving her with a cheek kiss back. “My apologies for not saying hello before, mayor” Regis only dismissed it with a smile and a hand up as if saying it was no troubles. She introduced a daughter and a nephew, along some small talk in between. “You gentlemen are enjoying the night, I see” she said while looking at Clarus and Cor by turns and giving one of her best grins. “I believe we haven’t been introduced yet?”  
“My bad, Eyra” Regis said. “This is Clarus, chief of the police department.”

She made a little noise as if surprise and admiration, and gave him a hand while Clarus murmured a greeting.  
“And this is the police Marshal, Cor Leonis, his second in command” Regis continued introducing as Cor put a hand up and shook hers. She looked at Regis with much more genuine surprise, lifted eyebrows and an open mouth, and then back at Cor.  
“Sir Immortal?” Cor smiled pressing the lips in a line and murmured Yes with a little nod. She giggled still in surprise and admiration, and still shaking Cor’s hand. “My, what an honor! I’ve heard a lot about you, mister Leonis. No wonder Insomnia is considered the safest city of the world; you as a legend, and you’re second in command?” she let go of his hand and turned to look at Clarus. “Then what are you, a god?”

The little group laughed together for a bit.  
“Clarus actually has some fun stories as chief, he’s either a god or an absolute klutz, do you want to hear about the time he accidentally put a comb in his sheath instead of his gun?” Regis finally left formal joy behind and went into his genuine childish self.  
“They don’t want to hear that, Regis” Clarus replied. Cor chuckled a little, and thanked a waiter that passed by to offer him a drink, that he accepted.  
“The best part is when he had to pull the gun to yell ‘Freeze’ and the bad guy was so startled by seeing the comb, he _was_ captured.”  
More laughter.  
“Are you for real!?”  
“No.”  
“Definitely” Regis said completely ignoring Clarus, and soon he had that look on his face that kept it clear that nothing in the world would stop him from telling the whole story until he was done, so Clarus just sighed and rolled the eyes, Cor grinned, and none interrupted as the mayor of Insomnia went on. “So, Clarus had had a bad day the day before, right? He was in a bad mood and he hadn’t slept that well at all, and to make it worse he was late for work the next day, right? So he gets up, goes have quick breakfast, showers, and decides that his hair could wait. Oh, because back in the years, you won’t believe it, Clarus actually had longer hair, much longer, it was very beautiful and I’m still upset at him for cutting it. Anyway, so he leaves the house with the hair still messy…”

The story kept going. Cor was listening, he really was. His head had been clear for hours now that he wasn’t even thinking about how clean it was because he didn’t even remember it being so full and stressed. Lighthearted and content, Cor hung out with his group of friends and new acquaintances, and enjoyed. 

But it happened.

The mischievous laugh.

Cor’s heart skipped a beat and his breath cut entirely; he tensed and got petrifried in his spot, eyes wide in terror, as if he had become paralyzed by a sight of nightmares. His ear tickled uncomfortably and the noise ringed in his ear.  
The sound of a laugh somewhere else in the room made it through the distance, the music, the other dozens of conversations, and the dancing feet, all the way into Cor’s ear; it rang in his head like suddenly someone was ringing a church’s bell right next to him, making his nerves shake, stealing his oxygen even when he tried to breathe, asphyxiating him. The sound triggered him instantly; the first little second he heard of the laugh broke the dam behind which he had hidden all that obsession in his head and it all came out at once, overwhelming, as a stampede running over him and everything came to him again.

It was Mask DeMasque’s laugh.

The one Cor had been listening for two years straight now. The laugh of the crime scenes, of the happy smiley logo that haunted Cor awake and asleep, the laugh of mischief that had been torturing him for so long, that he had been listening to over and over every time he lost again and again, and again.  
It couldn’t be. Cor was having a first night of freedom and fun ever since that person came to ruin his life…and they were haunting him even there!?

Cor was sure it was their laugh, he had- he had heard it too many times for so long now, he could recognize it immediately even when not looking for it, hence why he reacted instantly as soon as it reached his ear.

With the head throbbing after first hearing the laugh, Cor was not in the conversation anymore. While Regis and the gang continued speaking, Cor looked over his shoulder and turned enough to look in the direction from where the laugh came from, eyes wide, heart beating madly in his chest. He looked ready to spot the green coat and hat and the smiley pin. 

It wasn’t there.  
All that he found at the place he was sure DeMasque would be was a little group of rich people talking and laughing together. Cor breathed as quiet as he could through the mouth, tremblingly, not helping to be so shaken. Even despite knowing DeMasque wasn’t there, he still stayed paralyzed looking at the group that had laughed and sounded so much like the thief.  
Of course DeMasque wasn’t there. Was Clarus right, then? Was Cor too obsessed and he had reached the point of real hallucinations? The laugh had sounded…so identical to DeMasque’s, he had been sure he had heard it-

There it was again.

Cor’s head throbbed so hard he had to blink a few times before focusing the gaze on the group again. They had laughed, and it was the laugh from that other social group that he was mistaking for DeMasque’s _(but it sounds so real, it sounds so real…!)._  
He couldn’t be this crazy. It was fine. It was a party of library re-opening and there was nothing of value, and there had been no presentation card, and there was no green attire. Cor was just…maybe he _was_ obsessed, and his brain was making him hear things where there was nothing. It was fine. He just had to breathe.

Calming down little by little, Cor was frozen while taking himself out of it, and, frozen as he was, he couldn’t help but keep looking at the other group of people plenty meters away. Inevitably, staring, he identified some of them. He saw one of the Highwind’s, impossible to miss with such complicated-looking but beautiful grey hairstyle. Some Lucian. A Nif.  
…Lord Tummelt junior?  
Ah. Yes. This was two of the Highwind’s, talking with two others and one of the Tummelts, one of the Nif families that had moved to Insomnia two decades ago and who had donated a _lot_ of money to the library. The son, particularly, was pretty famous, as much as someone that didn’t aim to call the attention could get, due to his name and for apparently being both a very intelligent person, and a good-looking young man.

Cor looked at him a little longer than he had stared at the rest of the group. He had silly small thoughts to calm down, like not having remembered the Tummelt would be there, having recognized the son despite it being a first time seeing him in real person.  
Once calm, Cor was about to look away but…he didn’t. For some reason, he continued tense, petrified, staring at Tummelt junior.  
Something about him made Cor…feel unable to look away.  
He couldn’t put his finger on it; why was he staring? He couldn’t even tell if it was because something felt familiar. Something felt familiar but also it didn’t, so maybe he was mistaking something about him for something else…maybe it was just…the hair or maybe he just reminded Cor of some friend or…  
No, no, hard as he thought, Cor couldn’t understand himself and why he was staring so much-

He was the same height. Or so Cor calculated. And he had the same tone of dirty blond on the hair. Possibly blue eyes, too-  
No. No, how could he think that of someone- how could Cor even _dare_ make such connection between the vulgar, fucking despicable rat with someone so renowned like lord Tummelt…!?  
No. Lord Tummelt couldn’t possibly be…them. It was stupid and Cor was letting his obsession get the worst out of him again, and he was thinking way too wrong of this. Lord Tummelt junior was the only son of one of the wealthiest Nif families, he was probably looked after with tight security. Plus, he looked like the kind to despise criminals, rich people always did. Hell, he looked like a porcelain doll, he couldn’t have skills that involved getting dirty and bruised and he definitely could not be involved in something as low and disgusting as thievery.

Cor decided to calm down. He swallowed.  
…then again…Tummelt junior, only now that he paid attention, seemed so familiar. Not only in the hair and height, but also the…the body. With the mask on, the body was the only thing Cor had analyzed for _two years_ and…well. He had gotten to know some things good enough. Some mannerisms. Some subtle ways of standing, or the movement of hands, though, standing there doing but hold a glass and listen to his friends, lord Tummelt was not giving him many chances to analyze, and yet, the sole sight of him standing still, just standing, it seemed so familiar.  
The shape. Cor had gotten to know the shape of his nemesis’ body too, what with the tight pants and such. The pants Tummelt was wearing weren’t tight, but his jacket was fit, and…the curve at his lower back, and the- shape of his ass. And besides being physically alike to the Phantom thief, the way he moved, with subtle grace-  
No, it couldn’t be. And it was rude to stare, so can you not?

Cor felt his gut wrench and he felt like he had done the worst thing ever. He sighed and tried to calm down and get back to clear his mind, stop staring, and leave those people to mind their business.  
And right as he was about to look away, young Tummelt smiled, and Cor looked at his mouth by instinct.  
And when he did, his heart skipped another beat.

Tummelt junior was not aware of his staring. He was attentive to his own conversation, and offered only a side view. Yet, that was all that Cor needed; he stared intensely, and, while mentally panicking, he tried to focus as best as possible on the mouth, analyzing the shape, the color, everything that he could see of it.  
The full upper lip that seemed to have been drawn and sculpted by hand…the way it went up in pretty peaks, like the upper half of a heart…the soft-looking lower lip…  
The way they moved as he smiled.  
The way he licked them….

_Impossible…!_

The mouth. It was the fucking _mouth._

Cor still tried to give him a millionth chance, more out of the denial of not daring believe this was happening because what were the odds…? Despite knowing those lips, Cor tried to not point anything out and tried to hide behind thinking that lips weren’t enough to identify them, people could have similar mouths, there was yet to see things like maybe the birthmark of-  
When someone else in the group spoke, lord Tummelt turned to look at them, and hence, though unknowingly, turned to Cor’s direction a little more.  
Revealing a little dot on their right cheek, near the jaw.

Cor’s heart was just skipping a beat when lord Tummelt opened the mouth…and laughed.  
_The_ mischievous laugh.

Cor’s heart stopped.

Mayor Eyra and her family were laughing with Regis and his story, but Clarus was no longer paying any mind. He stared at Cor, subtly but attentively, and not hiding his concern. The Marshal had been looking at other people for about five minutes now, clearly shaken to the bone, and Clarus couldn’t tell what was wrong.  
“Cor” he called lowly as to not interrupt the conversation next to them. Cor didn’t reply. All that the Marshal did was lift the hand and give Clarus his drink, without looking, as if mechanically or possessed. Clarus took it, not sure what to do. “Cor?”

But Cor didn’t reply. He put the hand down again and, not blinking, not taking the eyes off young Tummelt, and barely breathing, he gave a first step, and so he started walking towards the other group.  
Each step felt like an eternity as he tried to think at the speed of light what to do. He tried to come up with a plan, he really did, but he was too shocked to be able to think. With the head this foggy and the body feeling as if though ready to collapse from the shock, he knew it wasn’t the smartest move to get to him right now…but he couldn’t help it.

Two years.  
He had been tortured and humiliated for two _years._

And now the stars and fate aligned. All of it came together for this fateful meeting, and he was walking towards that fate.

The idea of being this close, _this close_ was…so tempting…that even knowing that it was best to wait, Cor couldn’t. He kept walking, going straight to the young blond man, without plans, but without hesitation either.  
He tried to calm down, forced himself to calm down quickly. His own steps seemed to echo in his ears, his head kept throbbing for what felt like hours, everything stopped existing except for himself and the young man he approached. He had to put all his training and self control into keeping it cool and calm down, not let any emotion overwhelm him. And so, calming with each step, he continued walking.

Tummelt junior was joyfully listening to his companions’ chatter and enjoying a cup of wine when they were interrupted.  
At first, he didn’t mind it too much and had guessed that who he had seen from the corner of his eye was just a passerby. His companions noticed before him and stopped talking. So, when everyone turned to look at the newcomer, Tummelt junior did so as well, curious, having to turn a little and look up to see who had stopped right next to him.

The police’s Marshal, Cor Leonis himself, the Immortal, and one of the most famous bachelor men of the city, was looking down at him. Entirely ignoring the rest of his companions; eyes fixed on him, soft and knowing and…smart.  
And cold.

“Lord Tummelt” he said softly. At the mere sound of his voice, Tummelt’s companions shared only a few exccited whispers, and Tummelt himself lifted the eyebrows ever so subtly. Then, unexpectedly, Cor bowed a little and offered a hand. “May I have this dance?”

The Nif eyed him. The rest of the group shared a few whispers a little more shamelessly this time and low giggles, and stared with wide eyes at the scene. Cor ignored them, eyes on the small blond. Tummelt was eyeing him with full attention; his eyes looked Cor up and down shamelessly, like he wasn’t sure he was seeing right or measuring what his answer was going to be. Then, he kept his stare on Cor’s eyes.  
Cor’s heart stopped and wrenched.  
Blue-greyish eyes, with a faint taint of violet at the borders of his irises.

Despite that, Cor stayed still, controlling himself. Tummelt kept staring for a moment. He had a blank face with a subtle frown which seemed to be his default.

But, after a couple long seconds staring at each other to the eyes, Cor saw it.  
The slightest ghost of a smile at the corner of Tummelt’s lips.  
A mischievous little smile that came from understanding the look in Cor’s eyes and the unspoken intentions behind his offer.  
A phantom smile of _mockery._

That look was a ghost that lasted only a few moments. Afterwards, Tummelt blinked softly and gave him a sincere smile that, despite looking sweet, Cor could almost feel as if tainted of amusement.  
“Of course” the younger man said looking slightly away as his mocking smile widened. He moved one of his hands towards his closest companion to give them his glass of wine, not saying anything, yet the companion complied and held it for him. Tummelt looked back up at the Marshal with his pair of blue eyes unable to hide that knowing look. “It’d be my honor.”

Said that, he put one of his gloved hands on top of Cor’s.  
White gloves. Of hands he knew all too well.

Cor held it just enough. Without a glance at the others, as no one but young lord Tummelt existed right now, Cor started heading to the dance floor with his new dance partner. Tummelt’s group of friends watched with wide eyes and grins, sharing gossip and silly giggles. Cor heard them say things about him being good-looking and how lucky Tummelt had been. Yet, despite having heard clean and loud and eyes still locked on Tummelt’s, none of them said anything about the comments.

Indeed, they said nothing all the way into the crowd of dancers. They both were quiet; Cor’s heart pounded heavy in his chest, and he was managing to keep calm. Tummelt was helping a lot; he was not even trying to hide anything. The look in his eyes, the sly smile he had given him, the way he kept staring even when in any other situation this would have been awkward…the bastard was playing along Cor’s game without trying to hide a single thing. Instead of stopping at the edge, though, Cor kept dragging him in deeper and deeper until they reached the center of the dance floor; that way, his friends wouldn’t spy, no one else would, and Tummelt would have more troubles if he wanted to get away at some point.

Once there, Cor stopped and gently turned to face his companion; Tummelt positioned himself in front of him. Both, naturally, even if Cor with far less elegance than his partner, reached for each other, Cor placing a hand on the younger man’s waist and pulling him an inch closer, the other still on his hand, and Tummelt reaching a hand up to rest it on his arm, a little less awkward than placing it on his shoulder due to the noticeable height difference. Without a word and not even looking at each other, both started dancing; Cor didn’t lose a second to take the leading role before Tummelt dared try. Tummelt offered no complaints and followed, almost as if having expected to get the following role.  
And yet, three steps into it, he was dancing as if though saying ‘Even as the following part, I still have the control of all this’.  
Cor hated it.

After a couple moments, and as they gently danced to the music, Cor contained a subtle sigh in his chest and spoke.  
“I didn’t know you would be here tonight, lord Tummelt.”  
“Oh- please. Call me Loqi” the reply was soft, yet the sassy smirk was there again.  
“Loqi” Cor repeated, blank and serious. The waltz kept going and their feet moved along the sound of strings and orchestra.  
“Didn’t you?” Loqi retook the conversation from before his small note. “You should have. My family _was_ the main donor to make this possible” Cor tried to not tighten the grip on the Nif’s hand to not give away the anger that the pretentiousness made him feel. “Seeing you and police Chief Amicitia, though… _that_ was a surprise.”  
“Yes” Cor replied, more purposely and as if hiding another meaning behind his words. “I bet it was.”

Loqi looked up at him with that knowing look again, keeping quiet for a moment, and then letting out a hum and chuckle that kept it clear he _was_ understanding. It made Cor’s blood boil more in his veins, but he kept his cool.

During a small change of the waltz, Cor took the chance to let go of Loqi enough to make him spin once, then held him again to keep dancing. They moved just like before and as the waltz asked for; not fast, but neither slow-dancing, just at a steady rhythm.  
“What is your family’s business again?”  
“Mechanical engineering, mister Leonis” Loqi replied as smiley and light as before. The way he moved was graceful, and before Cor knew it, Loqi was, somehow, leading their dancing while also staying in the following role.  
“And I presume you intend to follow the tradition?”  
“I’ve already graduated, as a matter of fact” Loqi replied, then paused as Cor led him into another gentle spin over his own feet. “With a 9.8 grade, if I may so brag.”  
“Impressive” Cor said still as dry. “Heard you also play the piano?” Before answering, Loqi let out a chuckle.  
“Not professionally, but yes, I do” and another sassy smile.  
“An art fella, aren’t you?”  
“Quite, I guess” he chuckled. “But I won’t say no to some nice sports.”  
“Such as?”  
“I guess I do quite enjoy fencing and gymnastics.”

They synchronized for another turn. They remained quiet for a bit, as the music turned from a waltz to something a little more…red, if music had color, more alike a tango-ed waltz. It was a piece that Cor knew and enjoyed, yet that he could barely hear in the moment.  
“I do must ask, mister Tummelt…” Cor started. He made Loqi turn, but only halfway; he pulled him close so Loqi’s back was pressed to him, the arms crossed, and Cor softly holding both of his hands. He leaned down to be closer to the top of the Nif’s head, that Loqi rested against him and tilted to a side. For a split second his mind went elsewhere when he noticed it; the sweet, hypnotizing lotion that he still hallucinated. For a moment, too, he forgot what he was to ask, looking down at the view of Loqi’s neck below him; head tilted as it was, the neck was exposed, vulnerable, as if asking for a kiss. Taking himself out of it, Cor’s voice lowered to a dark murmur. “How does such refined gentleman enjoy of something as vile and vulgar as thievery?”

There was silence for a bit. Some moments later, though, Loqi let out a low dark chuckle that didn’t feel tense.  
Cor let go and turned Loqi again to finish the spin, until Loqi faced him again and, gently and gracefully, he let his hand rest on Cor’s arm again as the officer grabbed his waist again, and the two continued the dance as if nothing was happening.  
“My, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Marshal” Loqi replied, but his voice reflected mockery and amusement, a tone that kept it clear he was very much aware of what was going on. The playful smile kept it clearer that he wasn’t even trying to be subtle; wasn’t trying to hide anything, wasn’t even trying to fake the slightest bit of surprise. He was clearly going with Cor’s game shamelessly, amused, taking it as a fucking joke.  
“Let’s not make this longer than it needs to be, Loqi” Cor said as dryly, not looking at him. “You’re Mask DeMasque.”

Suddenly, the Nif threw the head back and laughed aloud. It was a laugh of genuine amusement, not anything sarcastic. The sound of it almost gave away the sensation that he had done it on purpose; laugh out that characteristic joker, mischievous laugh that he laughed every time at the crime scene he got away with the prize. It felt like he knew how so very deep it angered Cor. After laughing and taking a second to catch the breath, Loqi kept grinning, more and more amused with each second, while still following Cor’s waltz.  
“And what makes you say such audacious statement?” Loqi asked with the last remnants of his laugh. Cor moved down to murmur closer to the top of his head.  
“I’d recognize those lips anywhere.”  
“Marshal…” Loqi said with sass and as if surprised, followed by a noise that Cor could only tag as the human equivalent of a purr. “How naughty.”  
“I don’t mean it that way” Cor added in an angry murmur.

Loqi chuckled as mischievously as if he was wearing the mask and the costume. Despite basically not denying any of it, he didn’t seem tense or with intentions of escaping. He kept dancing as if genuinely enjoying of it.  
“It’s a real question, though” Cor said, trusting that, with the man literally in his arms and hands, it was a sure catch this time. “Why do you do such vile things, Loqi? You don’t need the money.”  
“That’s why I always return what I steal.”

Even though it was more than clear that it _was_ him, hearing an actual confession was still startling and made Cor’s heart stop and speed up at the same time, turned into a disaster. He tried to calm down again and keep it cool.  
“Why, then?” Cor asked. “It’s taking too many troubles to earn nothing out of it. No money, no secret collection, nothing. Dress up, put up the whole show, have near encounters with being caught or _death_ by accident…” he listed. “Yet you earn nothing out of it but fame. Which you can’t even enjoy fully, what with being a mask.”

Loqi didn’t reply immediately. The music kept going. They had paused for a bit while the piece ended but almost immediately a new one started, and so they kept moving together.  
“Dear Marshal, life as the only son of one of the wealthiest families of the city can get _very_ boring when you’re not corrupt” Loqi finally said. Cor frowned slightly in confusion, yet remained quiet to allow the younger man to continue. “All I’ve ever wanted, I just ask for. I help my parents only a few hours, but they run all the business on their own. The rest is…free time of almost anything I want” he sighed again. “I just need to lift a finger to have what I want. I don’t need to make any effort to do or get anything. It’s excruciatingly _boring.”_

Had to be nice, being rich, Cor thought a bit bitterly, where the main struggle was being deathly bored.  
“Correct me if I’m mistaken, Loqi” Cor said without looking at him, his body in its own world of waltzing. “But I’m grasping that you do all the Mshow for…fun. No fame or recognition, just…personal entertainment.”  
“You’re absolutely correct, dear Marshal.”  
There was a long strange pause.  
“Not surprising, I should’ve guessed” Cor mused aloud. “But why not some healthy hobby? Why a criminal life? There are thousands of harmless things you can do, yet you chose to become a clown thief.”  
“My parents won’t allow me my favorite hobbies” Loqi explained without sounding bitter or the slightest upset, like he was used to telling this as one would speak of the weather. “Besides, I’ve found this to be _really_ fun, the exact sort of adrenaline I was looking for” and so Loqi did another spin on his heels, this time much more light and graceful, as if the thief’s persona was not trying to hide anymore. “In such boring life, all of this is exactly what I needed; the fun of dressing up and making such theatre character, the time and entertainment of planning intricate tactics, analyze and outsmart security, the adrenaline of being chased and nearly caught, running from people that go after me, the uncertainty if I’ll make it…” he gave a happy hum. “It’s _chilling._ And just what I wanted. It’s the thrill that I _needed_ in my dull life.” 

The music ended and so both stopped. Yet, Cor didn’t let go of either his hand or his waist. Loqi noted it and looked up at him with sly eyes. Cor remained unfazed, giving him a cold look. As if amused by this, Loqi smiled as if trying to contain it and failing, until he looked down and snorted to chuckle. Cor waited until a new piece started, and so he retook the dancing; Loqi only gave a half-nod and a sarcastic smile as if saying ‘Oh, okay’, and followed.  
“I don’t see what’s so thrilling about being a criminal.”  
“No?” Loqi asked in unnecessarily exaggerated surprised. “Oh, if I could tell you how it feels, dear Marshal; challenge yourself to take what you want when it’s restricted, the excitement of being told No and making your own way to the Yes, the pure ecstasy of running away with something that took so much effort to take, being chased, be free as you run to uncertain freedom itself…”

Cor didn’t answer. He heard lord Tummelt sigh dreamily.  
“I didn’t plan for it to get this big, I promise you. But it was just…” he sighed shakily as if excited. “It’s so captivating. It’s addictive” he smiled. Answering a question Cor never asked, Loqi seemed to enjoy as he told him everything. “I wanted to do it just once, you know, for the fun. But because it all seemed just…” he clicked his tongue with a wide smile. “So _easy,_ so, so easy, I was curious of…where it really started getting difficult. So I started challenging myself to bigger, more difficult acts” he sighed like an artist explaining their piece. “First, just a safe. Then a safe in a locked room. Then a painting. Then a museum piece in a container. And so on and on, security getting tighter and tougher, each time more people trying to catch me, and giving me so much more fun in everything; the forehand planning, the act itself, the chase afterwards…” he laughed lowly. “Not to say the police _always_ helps me so much, making security tighter and greater each time. It adds _a lot_ to the fun, so I have to thank you for that, dear Marshal. Is it true you took twelve bullets to the chest some years ago?”  
“I think I’ve heard enough.”

Cor stopped dancing, but he didn’t struggle or picked a fight with Loqi. He was in the literal middle of a social event, and cuffing someone right there would ony cause a scandal. Not to say he hadn’t brought his cuffs, so he had to escort him out instead.  
“Loqi Tummelt, I will ask you to accompany me elsewhere; you’re under arrest for-”

But Loqi cut him off with one of his theatrical laughs, though, this time, lowly.  
“Oh, dear Marshal” Loqi said while shaking the head as his laugh faded, letting go of Cor’s hand to put his hands on his chest. Then, he looked up at Cor with a smile that made Cor keep quiet and stare back. He stayed stoic and severe against Loqi’s gaze that almost seemed to want to be provocative, sensual, even with a hint of lust that Cor couldn’t tell was real or faked to startle him. Loqi was biting down slightly on a side of his lower lip and he let go slowly while quickly eyeing Cor’s mouth. He reached up and adjusted Cor’s bowtie sweetly, fingers releasing for his fingertips to gently land on Cor’s broad chest. The Nif looked up at his eyes. And in a whisper as dark as lustful as his eyes, Loqi smiled at him, and said: “No one will believe you.”

And before Cor could answer or take him by the arm to escort him, Loqi moved a hand away and, in a swift and smooth movement, he took the nearest dancing couple and switched partners faster than Cor (or the other couple) could anticipate; not knowing how, a lady ended up almost landing on Cor’s chest, replacing Loqi. Cor was startled by this and looked down at his new partner, who, as startled, pulled apart enough to at least look at who she was with this time. She gave a smile and a shrug as if saying ‘Oh, okay, partner switch then’, but Cor reacted immediately; _fuck,_ no, Loqi was- he couldn’t let him escape!

Without minding the lady’s questioning of whether he was going to dance or not, he put her apart a little less gently than he had intended and desperately started looking away; the trouble was first finding who Loqi had switched with, but if Cor saw them, it was not important anymore…because Loqi must have traded partners again while he wasn’t looking, so he had not switched with one, but with two, maybe he had already switched three or four times, getting lost in the crowd of dancers, and Cor had no idea in which direction he was. Cor tried to look around while also pushing people aside to open himself a path through the crowd, looking for Loqi, heart pounding in his chest so loud the music was drowned and all he could hear was his own heartbeat.

_Shit, fuck, not again, not again…!_

Fuck, not only did Cor have no idea _where_ to look at, but even if he was looking in the right direction, Loqi could get so easily lost because, despite his hair color, so outstanding among the usually dark haired Lucians, he was so _short_ he could get easily lost in a crowd, even more so when he was doing it on purpose. Cor bumped into a few people, some tried to take him for a dance partner, but he kept looking around with desperate eyes and cutting his way through, turning over himself to try and catch a glimpse of wherever Loqi had run to, searching frantically, looking at every face, he couldn’t let him go…!

Thinking it best if he made it out of the crowd to look at it from outside, Cor rushed his way out of it and looked back, trying to spot him, but, with how sly and agile Loqi was, and especially _smart,_ it was for sure he had already thought about making it out of the crowd a priority; he looked at the group of people he had been with earlier, but he wasn’t there. Yet, the hall was big, he couldn’t have just vanished like that. He had to be in the building, and nearby, but where had he run to, which door did Cor have to go to, which staircase, what did he do now…!?

After a bit, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped a little and looked back, and found Clarus standing there, giving him a smirk and a raised eyebrow.  
“Cor…” Clarus said in a delighted, insinuating hum. “What a flirtatious boy you turned to be.”  
“It’s him, Clarus, I found Maks DeMasque” Cor breathed out shakily, once more staring around a little too desperate. Clarus’ smile faded.  
“What?”  
“DeMasque, he’s here, it turns out- it’s him, it’s lord Tummelt junior, you know, the- sassy rude child, he’s-”  
“Cor, okay, uhm…” Clarus tried to catch what was happening, not sure he was following. He grabbed Cor by the shoulder again and made him look at him. Cor tried to make eye contact, but couldn’t help and look away to keep scanning the area frantically. Clarus took him by the face with a hand and made him turn to look at him again. “Cor, are you drunk?”

Cor blinked in surprise and quickly shook the head.  
“Clarus, not right now, no, I-” Cor paused and sighed. Clarus let go. “Look, I know- it’s bizarre and out of nowhere and I know how it sounds like but I found him, Clarus, I just discovered Mask DeMasque’s identity, and he’s here and he just-” Cor gestured and froze for a moment, and then he clearly became as frustrated as embarrassed. “…and he just- ran away and we need to stop him, _right now.”_

Clarus stared at Cor with a frown of confusion and some surprise.  
“Cor- Cor, not _again”_ Clarus said and, not having expected the answer, Cor looked at him questioningly. Clarus gave him a look between severe and worried. “You were starting to get over your obsession just exactly this night, and exactly this night you go back to this whole issue?”  
“You don’t- no, it’s not-!” Cor sighed in frustration. “Clarus, I know it sounds like I’m hallucinating things but I’m not. I swear, I- do you-” he stuttered a bit before clearing his mind and tongue. “You know me, Clarus, you know I’m not the type to ask someone I’m not friends with for a dance, I did it because I recognized him, I’ve, I’m, I- I’ve dealt with DeMasque for _two years,_ I think I know how to recognize them by this point, and don’t believe me if you won’t, but he fucking _admitted_ it to me, he didn’t- it’s not that he didn’t deny it, it’s that he _admitted to it,_ Clarus, word by word explicitly, and if he’s escaping it’s precisely because of this, because you’re blaming it on me and no one will believe me!”

Clarus did but stare at Cor in silence for a while, lost. He couldn’t understand how DeMasque could be in the exact same place that exact same night as coincidence, because what were the odds? Plus, Cor was claiming that it was…Tummelt junior? Like…the son of that wealthy Nif family that had never caused a scandal and who looked as if all he did was drink tea and look pretty? Sure, they didn’t know him personally, but…Tummelt son didn’t seem like the type…

Still, the way Cor had spoken and what he had said, it sounded so…sure. Not like when he came up with his crazy theories with no base out of obsession, this seemed…as crazy as it sounded…different.  
It sounded like the friend Clarus had always trusted his life to.  
“…okay” Clarus said, though a bit hesitant. As if to correct it, he repeated a little more clearly: “Okay.”  
“…okay?” Cor asked lowly, like not sure if it was a prank.  
“Yes” Clarus replied firmly, if still looking a little startled. “Let’s…if you’re so sure, I believe you” he nodded, and gave Cor a firm, confident, serious look. “Let’s look for him.”

As if not having expected the support or to be believed at all, Cor took a moment processing the info, slowly nodding but not yet understanding. Clarus, too, mimicked his movements, as if both men were rather unsure, until, a few seconds later, Cor nodded more firmly and securely.  
“Let’s go.”

And so both officers off-suddenly-on duty hurried through the hall, enough but not too much to call the attention. They split ways to make the search easier; they looked into the dancing crowd, looked at every social group gathered, and made sure each blond they found wasn’t their suspect.  
Yet, it was a search in vain.  
After a good while, they reunited when their paths crossed again, none having found hint or glimpse of Loqi Tummelt. Heart racing and head throbbing, Cor decided to find the group of people Tummelt had been with when he first approached him.

“Loqi?” one of the group, a grey-haired woman and a Highwind if Cor wasn’t mistaken, asked when they approached her and asked. “Oh, yes. He sent me a text, said he had to leave in a hurry to do some unexpected things at home” then she gave Cor a subtle yet insinuating smile. “I had assumed _you_ were the ‘unexpected things at home’ to do, Marshal? What a disappointment to see you here still.”

Cor barely bothered in answering, not putting much mind or emphasis in the quiet no he gave, and not putting effort in his goodbye either, turning around and facing Clarus again. His friend gave him slightly wide eyes as if he was waiting for instructions from Cor instead of the other way around. After a bit of looking into his eyes with worry and defeat, Cor looked away, sighing, and putting the hands at his waist.  
“Again” he muttered. “He left again, Clarus, once more I had him right here and he left.”  
“You seem calm, though.”  
“And I am, I’m-” Cor sighed a little shakily and put the hands down, then crossed the arms. “I’m…shaken, I admit, but that’s more out of the…surprise, the- unveiling of identity” Clarus nodded. “…but I’m not shaken about having lost him. Because now I _know_ who he is. He’s already caught, Clarus. I just needed his name, his name is everything I needed. In theory he’s already caught, and there’s nothing he can do about it.”

Clarus hesitated and didn’t answer straight away. He thought about some things about what Cor had said, but he didn’t want to discourage his friend. Then again, he reflexed about it, having DeMasque’s identity was a huge step, he agreed on that. 

He didn’t question what was next. Cor, once more, was drowned in his thoughtful state of every time he obsessed over the case.  
Fantastic. Taking him out for one night to free him from his obsession, and now he was more into it than ever before. He had thought, when he saw him reach for Tummelt junior, that Cor truly was enjoying to the point of asking someone out in, perhaps, romantic interest. 

Or at least that’s the way that Clarus thought Cor was looking at Loqi with. 

Maybe it had just been the obsession for DeMasque. Obsession and love did, often, look alike.


	5. Investigation

The next day, Cor ‘calmly’ waited for midday to go to the house of the Tummelt.

‘Calmly’ because he didn’t rush out of his house at five a.m. and burst through their door. Instead, he did his morning routine with as relative peace as always, and, considering how bad his state of obsession was, that was one of his biggest successes. Through the day, however, he kept pacing around anxiously. He arrived at the point where he would meet with Clarus earlier. By an hour. Foot tapping anxiously like a rabbit’s, teeth chopping off his nails. Clarus did remind him with a severe look and a gentle reminder to keep it cool and drop this obsession. Cor said, as always, ‘yes, yes’ then he didn’t.

He was eager. Anxious. Clarus understood, so he was less severe with him as usual regarding dropping his obsession. He had all reasons to be like this.  
If Cor was right, that was the day Mask DeMasque would, finally, after two years, be captured and cuffed. Cor’s longest, most difficult, hardest, most frustrating quest…it would be reaching its end. 

…or so Cor was thinking. Clarus still…would not put all his bet, not even half of it on the fact that it would finish for sure with that visit at the Tummelt’s. They lacked evidence. But that was something that Cor wouldn’t understand; he insisted they went because he was more than a million percent _sure_ it was the guy he was looking for. Clarus wasn’t sure how to ask him to not be too sure that they would success right now without making Cor feel bad. He just…hoped for the least worse to happen.

Taking a police car without the need to turn the sirens on, Clarus drove to the Tummelt’s with an anxious, eager, nail-biting Cor at his side. 

After minor research, they figured Tummelt parents would be at home for a few hours without Loqi, which seemed an appropriate moment to approach them. First, gathering of evidence or testimony, then the cuffing.

The Tummelt house was big, but not quite a mansion. It was stylish, very clean and tidy, decorated, and with a beautiful gardening job. It was a very peaceful, very quiet, very beautiful neighborhood. Certainly not the type where you would expect a thief to live at. Clarus did subtly glance at Cor, wanting, truly wanting to believe in him, but having quite a time trying not to fall into disbelief. He knew Cor wouldn’t lie about this or anything at all, not this important, but all clues were against him. And Tummelt junior, amongst all possibilities? He seemed like such a refined, graceful, frail young man…then again, Clarus would trust his life fully on Cor’s hands, so he tried to believe.

Both officers stood patiently at the door after ringing the bell. It took some seconds before the door opened, revealing a rather small-sized blonde woman mid-fifties or so. She looked at their uniforms and opened the eyes a little widely, then looked up at them in genuine surprise.  
“Gentlemen” she greeted, startled, but trying to be kind. “How…may I help you? Is everything alright?”  
“It’s fine, madame, please don’t worry” Clarus was first to speak because Cor radiated this aura of wanting to jump onto the first prey he found, and he feared he would mess up and make the lady even more nervous. Random cops at your door at unexpected times could be startling, and even though both were trained to keep people calm in these situations, Cor was not…at his best, so Clarus proceeded first, giving a soft smile and a calm look. “We just wish to talk with you, and come in, if that’s okay.”

After hesitating and not understanding, she scanned them a little again, and then nodded. She didn’t seem nervous beyond the normal, so that was a hint in favor of Loqi. And so one less for Cor.  
She let them in. Clarus let Cor go in first, only to subtly grab his arm and squeeze it in a clear petition for Cor to keep calm, because he had rushed the first steps, as if being this close to his self-proclaimed nemesis made him eager to catch him right then right there. 

They were shown to the living room, where they took seats while lady Tummelt went into another room, presumably the kitchen. She came out after a while in company of a man, just an inch, perhaps two taller than her, him carrying a little tray with cookies, despite the concerned and confused look upon his face. He served the cookies at the table and there was small talk offering the snacks and saying hello, before there was an awkward, sort of tense silence. The couple sat across the officers seemed genuinely lost and worried.  
“It’s alright” Clarus said softly, looking serious. “We’re not here with direct orders of anything. You’re safe.”  
“It’s just…unexpected” the lady said. “I don’t understand the reason of visit. Did anything happen? Is my son alright?”  
“Yes, don’t worry, he’s fine” Clarus continued. “But we do have some questions we would like to ask you regarding…him.”

The couple looked at the officers even more confused and worried than before, before sharing a concerned glance with each other.  
“Loqi is…a good boy, he’s not the troublemaker kind” Tummelt father said while shaking the head a little. “Or is it something outside of him? Is he suspected to be…targeted by someone?”  
“No, no, it’s nothing about that” Clarus stated again, gesturing with the hands. “We’re under investigation of another case, and we would like to disconnect your son from it. We don’t have anything that connects him to this case other than a mild suspicion, he’s fine” and Clarus was sure he _felt_ Cor tense at his side as if ready to detonate at any second. “But we would like to start by discarding everyone that can’t be part of this case. We didn’t want to scare him with this because there’s nothing to fear, we just want to ask a few questions to make sure he’s not a candidate connected to our case.”

The Tummelt still stared at him worriedly for a while. Tummelt father eyed Cor after a while, as if either wondering why he was so silent, or what his role in this was. Clarus prayed to all Astrals that they didn’t ask if this was a DeMasque thing because, for one, if they were involved, they would immediately change their minds to covering for Loqi, and most importantly, Cor’s presence was not…good. If DeMasque was brought up, and with Cor sitting there so ominously silent, they would immediately think that it was Cor’s ‘paranoia’ what brought him to put Loqi’s innocence to question, something that would make a pair of loving parents freak out, for sure.

After a bit, the couple agreed, if looking a bit more stressed than before. Clarus thanked them and took out his little notepad and pen. Cor leaned a little forwards to take the spotlight.  
“What does your son do in his free time?” he asked, as patient and calm as he could.  
“Well…” Loqi’s mom was first. “He’s normally home. He’s a quiet boy and doesn’t like bothering anyone. He doesn’t enjoy partying too frequently, but, you know, young ones, he does go out clubbing ever now and then, maybe one or two nights per week, but he’s often here watching TV or playing music. If you mean outside, he practices tennis. Right now he’s at the tennis court.”  
“Sometimes he hangs with a couple friends” Loqi’s dad added. “He’s good friends with one of the Highwinds, and with the Nox Fleuret, and sometimes they go out or hang here or at their places.”  
“Hm” Cor hummed in response while pausing a bit as Clarus finished writing. “Have you noticed anything odd about him that didn’t use to be frequent? Unexplainable bruises, tiredness…”

The couple shared another confused glance. Clarus knew it didn’t sound good, unexplainable bruises. If these parents were innocent, bruises and tiredness could bring them wrong, scary ideas of what could be happening to their son.  
“No” she said. “Not that I know of.”  
“Any change of attitude, from the past few years or so?”  
“He’s become less…impulsive” Tummelt father said, giving his wife a glance and receiving a nod as response. “He used to get easily angry but he’s been working on it and it’s gotten better.”  
“How has he been working on it?”  
“Tennis helps a lot, and he had a couple therapy sessions.”

Clarus continued scribbling, and Cor continued questioning, trying to sneak into openings in case the couple was lying. He knew it, he _knew_ Loqi was guilty because of- everything he knew that everyone else didn’t, but he couldn’t just blurt it all out. He asked about Loqi’s activities, changes, likes and dislikes, any interest for art or jewelry, was he left alone too much time, were you present during his childhood and teen stages, has he ever taken any artistic classes besides music, no, are you sure, theatre perhaps, ballet perhaps, have you noticed if he vanishes without saying where he goes to, have you made sure with your own eyes that he’s in his bed at night, do you have cameras on your entrance and/or gardens, has he shown any signs of being wary of the police, have you ever seen any strange this or any strange that or any unexplainable blah blah blah. 

The questions didn’t seem to bring out much to the parents, though, to Clarus, it did work to at least build hypothesizes; some answers pointed to Loqi being for real a candidate of their Phantom Thief, with a liking for art (DeMasque enjoyed stealing paintings and other arts at museums), the liking for being the spotlight (beyond need of explanation), some other behaviors that Clarus was trained to identify and suspect of. Some others, though, didn’t finish fitting in the puzzle; the couple never mentioned Loqi to take gymnastics as Cor had said, and DeMasque was obviously a master of that, he had had attention all across his life so that was a factor less for a criminal psychology (unless he _really_ was doing this all for fun, like Cor said? Was there really someone this…odd?), no parkour where DeMasque climbed buildings like a gods damn spider, and he didn’t show signs of unexplainable tiredness and also didn’t take naps too long during the day (whereas DeMasque worked mostly at nights).

It was a strange puzzle, and it was a challenge to decipher. In the minutes that Clarus spent looking at his notes and trying to put it all together, theories kept teasing him, then, at the last second, pulling back. After a long while enhanced into the thoughts, he realized just how much into it he was now that he had all this info.  
He really couldn’t blame Cor for his obsession…it was an incredibly interesting, very challenging puzzle…

“Alright” Cor said after their questioning was over, and so Clarus blinked to take himself out of the trance. “Thanks for the cooperation, Mrs. and mister Tummelt. Would you allow us to make a quick revision of your son’s room? It’s just protocol and you’re in all rights to watch us work to make sure we’re doing no wrong.”  
“Yes, of course” Tummelt father said without a hint of hesitation, and nervous only as much as a parent not understanding a police search could get, but also wanting to cooperate because he feared nothing. And if he feared nothing, then the most probable was that there really was nothing to hide. The Nif couple stood up. “It’s this way.”

They guided the officers upstairs and to a door. The couple just stood at a side.  
“It’s open” the mother said and waited. Clarus gave them a smile of pressed lips and a nod, and so he reached for the knob. Cor waited, a little eager, at his side, but trying to hide it. They didn’t think that Loqi would keep his bounty in his room, of course not, that would be beyond stupid and naïve to believe, but his room was the clearest manifestation of how he lived and thought, it was where people expressed their true selves. His room could hide little hints and secrets that could expose him. The thing was on keeping the eye very open and extra sharp to find those little things, because they could hide in anything; the position of the cup of water, how he made his bed, even in a trail of dust under the bed, it could be anything, hidden, tiny…

Clarus opened the door.  
“What the-!?”

Cor got a look of the inside and he instantly tensed, his gasp was cut midways, and he watched with wide eyes at the interior of the room. 

Right there, the first thing in sight was Mask DeMasque’s costume.  
On a mannequin.  
Right across the room in straight line from the door.

The officers stayed paralyzed at the door, not breathing, eyes wide and brains frozen. Tummelt parents seemed so genuinely lost, had had no troubles in taking them to the room, and the first thing in sight opening the door is this…!?

Cor hurried a few steps inside, pushing Clarus aside in the process, as if not believing his eyes and needing a closer look. After some more moments, he turned to look at his Chief with eyes even wider and the face in a mix between absolute shock and some offense. He gestured towards the costume mutely, tried to say something, and he ended up just gesturing towards it more exaggeratedly, giving him even wider eyes and a deeper frown. Clarus just stared back, not knowing what to reply or do.

This was unbelievable. They were supposed to look at the small things and hints, and they found this…!? It was like walking into a kidnap suspect’s house and the first thing in sight is the kidnapped…!

After a bit, Clarus turned around to find Tummelt parents still standing there, looking as naïve as before. He continued giving them a look that was obvious enough, but the couple didn’t say or do anything, so Clarus was forced to point with a thumb and ask aloud.  
“Care to explain that?”

Tummelt parents took a look of the inside, as Clarus was blocking the sight.  
“Ah, that?” Loqi’s mom said. She chuckled and gave Clarus a sweet look when she spoke next. “Loqi is fan number one of that DeMasque guy, he’s absolutely head over heels for them.”  
“…f…fan number…one…?”  
“Oh yes, he’s gotten _all_ the merchandise” Tummelt father said with a slight roll of the eyes and a sigh, but with a smile of…well. Of a proud father talking about his dear, precious child. “He’s got figurines and posters and his own mask and everything. Boy is _crazy_ for that guy.”  
“What about the costume?” Clarus insisted, heart pouding and brain lost; either the Tummelt weren’t aware of how absurd their lies were or they…or they…were really sincere about believing what Loqi was telling them. Could they be this naïve, really? Clarus looked at the costume again, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s not something you get anywhere, not in that quality.”  
“Loqi saved up and commissioned a tailor for a high quality replica, so he could keep it as part of his collection” Tummelt dad replied, and he sounded so horribly _sincere,_ he put to shame even the sociopaths Clarus had interviewed in all his life, and he honestly sounded so sincere, it was almost obvious that, against all logic, he really, really, really was not lying. “That’s how much he loves DeMasque, even though we insist he shouldn’t” his dad continued, but then, the chuckle faded and he gave Clarus a sincere frown of concern. “Is this why you’re investigating him? If it’s about DeMasque’s fan-base, we can talk with Loqi to drop it. We know it’s not correct to cheer on the criminals, so if it’s about DeMasque’s fans, we are aware Loqi’s one of their greatest, but we can talk him out of it…”

Clarus continued staring at them, unable to do more. Were they- were they for _real!?_ No one in their sanity would get a lie this dumb so far because they would know the officers wouldn’t believe it, hence arrest…so if they were taking it this far…was it not a lie!? Astrals above, they looked and sounded so sincere, Clarus didn’t know what to do anymore.

Clarus was lost. Way more than with any other case he had ever handled. Right when he thought he had it solved. He turned to look at Cor as if asking for help or advice, but all that Cor did was gesture towards the costume again, still so angry and shocked he was mute, before his hands flew to his hair and gripped it at the time he started walking in tiny slow circles. He looked like he was going to implode at any moment. Once more, concerned for Cor and lost in the case, he turned to look at the Tummelt.  
“Could we get a closer look of the costume?”  
“Yes, of course.”

Clarus turned around again and slowly got deeper into the room, giving it a look. The bed was nicely made, and a little plush doll of DeMasque rested on the pillow. There were two posters, and smaller printed fan-arts. The rest of the room seemed rather normal; desk, wardrobe, a bookshelf with books, movies, and comics, bedside table, anything you would expect from any normal young adult. The only outstanding thing was the mannequin with the perfectly ironed costume on it, and a corner of the room that kept some stuff for magic tricks. It would have passed as a perfectly normal hobby for a guy was it not for the fucking mannequin _with Mask DeMasque’s costume on it,_ was this a joke!?

Cor got close too and they started inspecting it. It was nice and ironed so it wasn’t like they could blame Loqi for having worn it somewhere outside, as it had no dirt or wasn’t shred anywhere. Then again, it had been a while since DeMasque made his last act. Cor took the hat off the mannequin and checked it, with a shaky sigh that said he was sure this was the original. Clarus glanced at him and the hat, not sure. Then, Cor offered Clarus the hat upside-down; the Chief reached into it and took a hair, blond, from it. He turned to look at the parents still standing at the door.  
“He’s been wearing this” he stated.  
“Of course he has” Loqi’s mom replied as if the man had just stated the sky is blue. “He didn’t waste so much in a replica costume if he wasn’t going to try it on every now and then. That’s what costumes are for.”

Clarus and Cor turned ot look at each other; Clarus gave Cor a look and a shrug as if saying ‘well they’re right’, at which Cor answered with wide eyes and an open mouth, then tried speaking, failed, then shook the head, then froze, in clear and great frustration. Cor looked around in a hurry and didn’t take long before he spotted the mask; instead of being on the mannequin, the mask rested on the windowsill, large enough to either sit or lie on it or put things there, as Loqi did. Cor took the mask and hurried to show it to Clarus.  
“See!? It’s this one, it’s the original, it’s even broken exactly like-” he stopped to pass his hands through his face and hair, growling, exasperated. Clarus subtly glanced at the parents by the door, who were distracted and talking with each other and letting the officers be. Cor put his hands away and showed the mask to Clarus again, nearly pressing it to his face. “Are you seeing that!? Are you fucking- it’s the original, Clarus!” before Clarus could tell him anything about the mask, Cor went on and added without thinking, “I know it, it’s in the exact shape as I broke it!”  
“You _broke_ DeMasque’s mask?”

Cor froze for a second, realizing what he had done. He seemed to calm down in his rant, but only got more stressed. He put his free hand to his waist and he looked away, clearly hesitant.  
“Y-…yeah. Last time we- yes…” he added timidly. Clarus saw him turn a very soft shade of red in the face, so he frowned with confusion at his friend and eyed him, trying to understand his sudden change of attitude. “I didn’t tell you but, last time, I got to hit him with a tube and broke half of his mask” Cor looked at Clarus again, and continued less shy and more firm. “That’s how I recognized him at the party, I saw the lower half of his face, and he knew it wasn’t worth keeping it a secret because of what happened with his mask.”  
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”

Cor relaxed again and stayed frozen looking at his friend. Clarus looked between concerned and as if offended to have missed such information. Cor…wanted to tell him, or rather, he knew he had to, Clarus was his friend but also his superior and he had to give a full report every time…but if he kept going into details, he had to talk about- about-

He sighed and his eyes went to a side.  
“Uhm. I didn’t…consider it important, that’s all, I’m sorry” he whispered. Clarus’ eyebrows furrowed and he stared for a while. It wasn’t common of Cor to not give every damn detail, especially when it was about his obsession case. Something was odd about it, but Clarus couldn’t tell what. Cor sighed and changed the subject back to what they were talking before. “Clarus, it’s all so clear. Tummelt parents are _lying-“_  
“No- ok, Cor-”  
“And you _know_ it, no one in the entire universe would buy the whole ‘he’s fan number one’ lie when their son fits the physical attributes and they’ve never paid attention to where their son is on the nights that DeMasque acts, it’s bullshit!”  
“Cor- I know, it’s just-” Clarus put his hand up, trying to catch Cor’s attention and asking for silence. He waited until Cor shut up and stared to keep it clear, murmuring. “We can’t make such statement without solid proofs, Cor.”  
“Solif pro-!?” Cor went into three seconds of growling and making strange noises as if frustrated and ready to explode. “What other proofs do you want, Clarus!? Full costume, the mask, broken as I left it, the confession…!”  
“Is everything in order in there, gentlemen?”

Both cops turned to the door when the Tummelt interrupted. They stayed quiet and stared at the couple, who gave them the same oblivious and innocent looks of before. Clarus gave them a reassuring smile; Cor, however, got angry at the look they were giving him, thinking it fake and hating it. Without asking Clarus first, Cor headed to the couple and stood before them.  
“Mister and Mrs. Tummelt, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to accompany us to the station” he stated; Clarus, behind him, flinched and panicked; the couple gave him concerned looks, then glanced at each other, then back at him.  
“There must be some misunderstanding” the lady said. “We haven’t done anything wrong. And if this is about our son, he has done even less wrong.”  
“We’ll go gladly because we know we don’t have anything to hide, but only so long you tell us what all this is about” the father said firm as he could manage.

Cor stared at them, frowning, waiting as if for any of them to say it before him and drop the act, but they insisted on staying firm about it. Exasperated, Cor sighed.  
“Let’s all just stop pretending” Cor said, uncrossing the arms. “You must know that covering up for someone is a crime, too, and the punishment for perjury worsens the more you lie, so why don’t you stop already? You _are_ aware that those are the worst lies to cover him up?”

For a good while, Tummelt parents just gave him shocked looks, full eyes with opened mouths, but also a frown as if either confused or offended. The mother was first to react, frown deepening until the shock seemed to turn into anger.  
“Excuse me?” she said, clearly at the edge of starting a fight. She made a noise that made it clear she was offended, as if saying ‘unbelievable’, and got into a firm attitude. “I have _so much_ to say about you _daring_ to believe us liars, let alone say it aloud, very bold and rude of you, Marshal, but I’ll have to let that go because above that I’m more offended at the realization that what you mean is that the one you’re after is my _son?”_ Cor just raised his eyebrows at her, sarcastically but as a confirmation. She gave another monosyllabic laugh of offense. “Oh my _god._ Oh my _god,_ you can’t be- I’m starting to understand, and you can’t be serious” Cor just glared as if daring her to say it. “You’re investigating my son under suspect that he’s Mask DeMasque? Are you for real?”

There was a moment of tension; neither Clarus nor Tummelt father got in the way and only watched the ongoing argument. Cor glared down at the small lady who did but glare even harder.  
“You’re making up the lamest excuses for him-”  
“Oh my _Six!!”_ she basically properly yelled this time, a hand going up to her forehead while she looked away, shaking the head. She turned again to look at him so angry, Clarus himself felt like back when his mother just needed to give him a look to terrify him. “You _dare_ be so sure about it!”  
“The proofs are irrefutable, madame” Cor started trying to reason with her. “Not to say your own son himself admitted to it, just not publicly.”

There was the sound of the front door, but almost at the same time, lady Tummelt went on, pointing a finger at Cor.  
“Listen here, Cor Leonis, I understand that because you’re a pathetic failure of a cop making a miserable job at trying to catch one thief you’re trying to take the first person that crosses your way to pretend it’s DeMasque-” while she spoke, Cor put the hands to the waist, sighed in exasperation, and looked away, shaking the head. “But Shiva have mercy on you for daring to make Loqi your falsely accused victim! You can put your fake show up and imprison an innocent just for the sake of a circus, but you dare come to _my_ house, accuse _my_ son, a virtuous, beautiful, harmless boy…!”  
“How can you think we’re believing the lies when it all matches!?” Cor argued back. “The high quality costume, the joy for being spotlight, not wanting to be identified because he clearly cares about his reputation, gymnastics!”  
“Gymsnastics!?” the mother yelled. “My Loqi doesn’t practice gymnastics! He plays _tennis!”_  
“Playing one sport doesn’t make you unable to practice others.”  
“Excuse me but I think it’s _my_ son we’re talking about, and I’m far more aware than you, I’d like to believe at least, of his activities, and he’s never in his life done such thing as gymnastics!”

Cor was lost. He didn’t reply for a moment because he was _so confused,_ but he opened the mouth ready to go on, when-  
“Mom?”

Lady Tummelt shut up when they heard the voice coming from downstairs; the sound of it made Cor’s heart flip inside his chest, and he guessed it would just start doing that every time he heard him. He hated the sensation; Loqi had escaped from him so many times that his voice alone triggered Cor into nervousness and an immediate high alert state. Lady Tummelt still gave Cor a very harsh look in silence while the sound of footsteps came upstairs; Cor focused in not breaking eye contact with her.  
“Dad?” they heard again, closer. “Is everything alright? I saw a police car parked outside and…”

Loqi appeared from the hallway and stopped in his way when he looked at the scene. He was wearing some sports outfit, sit for tennis, that seemed out of place on him, and he carried with his bag; he looked at Cor, at his parents, at Cor and his parents, not with fear, but with a look of confusion. Cor’s upper lip twitched and his stomach burst in fire at the sight because, gods damn him, Loqi was faking the surprise really well. He looked like anyone would really react at cops unexpectedly at home. He ended up looking at Cor as if though it was a first time.  
“…good evening” he said faking hesitation and wariness like with any stranger.  
“Good timing, Loqi” Cor said, not joining in the pretend. “Don’t you want to tell your parents something?” the Tummelt turned to look at their soon, expecting, and Loqi glanced at each of them per turns. “Maybe what you told me at the inauguration party?”  
“You talked with him at the party?” Tummelt father asked, frowning in confusion.

Loqi gave him a look and opened eyes and hesitated for a while.  
“…well, you see” he started. “I was…frightened you would…misunderstand, father.”  
“Wha-” Cor started, and had to close the eyes and clench the teeth for a second to contain a yell; what a fucking sly move, that fox! Changing the subject to something so…compromising, gods damn it! Needless to say, Tummelt father put his eyebrows up at Loqi first, then turned to give Cor the same look, angry. Cor sighed again and shook the head for a second, putting the eyes up and deciding that Loqi was not going to outsmart his way out of this, especially not by making his overly protective father believe that Cor had…moved on…tried anything for- ugh, it didn’t matter! “Haven’t you two noticed he vanishes the same nights DeMasque makes his act? Have you asked him where he goes?”

Said that, the parents turned to look at Loqi again and waited.  
“Loqi?” the mother called firmly and strict. Loqi looked at her for a long while, eyes a little wider than normal. He looked at his father and froze again. He stood still and tense. He continued looking at each other as if apparently not breathing and scared for a good while; then, his shoulders dropped and he looked away.  
“Okay. Okay, fine! I admit it” he said; Cor’s heart skipped like ten beats, then went racing so fast it nearly broke out of his ribcage, whereas his parents’ expression changed to fear and surprise. Loqi frowned and stared down. “…I go to see him. Okay? I’m sorry, I know it’s a thief and it’s vulgar to cheer on him, I know it, I just didn’t think it would be so bad that the police would come!”  
“Wha-!?” Cor didn’t even finish his question, every organ inside him bursting into fire and him near to screeching so loudly all Eos would rumble. 

Tummelt parents couldn’t buy that lie, they just couldn’t, it would be the summit of gullibility and the absurd! The outfit and thinking he was a ‘fan number one’ was one thing, but everything they already knew, plus Loqi admitting to not be home the same nights than DeMasque…sweet Astrals, his parents couldn’t really believe it!

A moment later, Loqi’s parents turned to look at Cor and gave him severe looks.  
_…you have to be fucking shitting m-!!!_  
Cor had to stop breathing and work with all his might to stay as still as was in his possibilities; still, he breathed heavily and shakily, and had to keep his jaw clenched. He looked as if at one notch of throwing a punch or explode like an atomic bomb. He kept eye contact with the Tummelt as if testing how far they were willing to take the stupid lie.

Thankfully, before he exploded, Clarus, coming from inside the room, put a hand on Cor’s shoulder. For a split second Cor made eye contact with him; Clarus gave him a soft, but firm look. He turned his attention to the Tummelt, calmly, and put his hands on his belt.  
“I think we’ve had enough, mister and mrs. Tummelt” he said. “Forgive my partner. It was inappropriate of him to cause such an offense. It is wrong of an officer to make such accusations” he stated, and Cor felt his soul detach off his body for a moment. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Cor didn’t even bother having any reaction, not even physical, he was too dead inside to feel anything anymore.

Apparently having softened thanks to Clarus’ submissive behavior, the Tummelt cooled down and nodded, if a little awkward at making eye contact with him, and entirely ignoring Cor. After a murmur from Clarus, the Tummelt opened the hallway for them to let them go first, and so they guided them downstairs and to the exit. The way there was quiet. Yet, Cor noticed Loqi’s steps behind them.  
…that tiny brat…

Soon enough, both officers stood at the main door. Like upstairs, the Tummelt ignored Cor and just minded Clarus, who, thankfully, took the word.  
“Thank you for allowing us to come in, for the time, for the cooperation, and for the hospitality” Clarus listed as if the more things he showed to be grateful for the better he fixed the situation. The worst was that it seemed to work, dammit. “And once more, I offer an apology for the inappropriate behavior.”  
“That’s quite alright, officer” Tummelt mother said. “I hope this has made it clear, at least for an objective and clear mind like yours, that my son is not involved in any of this mess.”  
“It seems like so, madame” Clarus gave her a smile and half-a-nod. Cor just internally kept dying. “Goodbye.”

The Tummelt, Loqi included, all bid goodbye some way. The parents said goodbye to Cor too though rather out of formality, and avoiding eye contact.  
Clarus walked out first, so he turned his back to the inside of the house; just like that, Tummelt parents were watching him. Cor had to wait while Clarus got out of the way. So he turned to look at the only way no one was looking at; back inside. To Loqi.

Loqi stood near the staircase, meters behind his parents. Cor made eye contact with him.  
Before he could glare as his last threat, Loqi took him off guard; the young Nif put a hand to his mouth, so very gently. And blew Cor a little kiss.  
While Cor tensed and reddened in the face, Loqi used the hand he kissed to wave goodbye, giving Cor a sly smile that pretended to pretend to try to look cute, yet obviously just wanting to show some mockery and slyness. 

Cor paralyzed and his heart turned into a mess; like the kiss wasn’t enough, it was the whole fact that Loqi was doing this confirming yet again Cor’s accusations, in presence of his parents and Clarus, _but none of them was seeing it_ and it would be just enough if any of them just turned and…!

_Oh, dear Marshal. No one will believe you._

Cor stared a bit too much and long at Loqi, to the point that Clarus had to pull him from an arm to make him step out of the house. Lady Tummelt gave Cor a last severe look before closing the door right after him, and it was the last interaction they had with the Nif family for a while.

Clarus let go of Cor and didn’t look at him. He just turned and headed to the car. For a moment, Cor just stood there hesitating whether to burst again through the door, take Tummelt son, steal him, and run to put him in jail just at once, fuck proofs, this was too absurd. Too absurd, indeed, what the fuck was going on? He knew the whole thing, he knew the identity and motifs and the criminal himself was right _there,_ and he couldn’t put him in jail, ironically, because of laws themselves? 

Frustrated and exasperated, Cor headed to the car too, rushing to try to catch up with Clarus, but at the same time not really eager to be alone with him.  
This had turned out to be yet another of the defeats Loqi put on him. And the most humiliating part was that Loqi had barely needed to even be present.  
Now he had the Tummelt on him, and Clarus too. And as much of a best friend to him as he was, Clarus still…was strict on him. Ten years older and having befriended Cor in his most immature teen ages, barely out of childhood, Clarus had always cared for him both as in protecting him, and scolding him for the best. He knew it was for the best, but scolding from Clarus was still not…enjoyable.

Angry and upset and frustrated, Cor got in the passenger seat after Clarus, who hadn’t even cared to look back to make sure he was following. Once inside, Clarus still ignored him and turned the engine on. Even the ride out of the neighborhood was silent, not even eye contact, not even through a mirror. Fuck, this was bad. Clarus was going to _slay_ him.

They made it back to the police station. Clarus drove to his spot of the underground parking lot, turned the engine off, and didn’t move from his seat. He didn’t even take the seatbelt off. He stayed still and quiet, and Cor just frowned as if nearly pouting and put the head down a little. He knew Clarus well enough to know it wasn’t a petition for Cor to get out first, Clarus was just going to scold him, and fucking explode, gods damn it.

After an awkward while in silence, Clarus turned to look at him, severe. Cor looked for a while before sighing and unable to keep it in.  
“Clarus, it’s ridiculous!” he exclaimed. “We’ve got all the proofs and the guy _confessed_ it to me and-!”  
“It’s not about what he told _you,_ Cor!” Clarus interrupted him, loud and severe. “How could you act that way back at the Tummelt’s? Not only was it rude, it was…plain wrong!”  
“How is it wrong when _he_ is the bad guy!?” Cor complained. “Clarus, this is driving me crazy; he’s the bad guy, he’s the criminal, and everyone’s pointing at me for wanting to bring him to justice as he well deserves it! Why won’t you believe me!?”  
“I believe you, Cor! I do!” Clarus yelled at him. “But we have laws, we can’t cuff someone just because _we_ believe, we need proofs!”

Cor was frowning; he grabbed what short hair he had and growled aloud, moving as if for a moment throwing a tantrum, before just looking away and shaking the head, with a slight pout. It was quiet for a bit of a while as Clarus looked at him, down, sighed to calm down, and looked back up at his friend.  
“The Tummelt are one of the wealthiest families of the city, and they’re Nifs; you know how their pride is” he explained calmly but with clear tiredness. “And Loqi is their only son. If he’s not spoiled, they at least do see him as their entire universe. It’s the perfect recipe for disaster” Clarus looked away and put an elbow to the car’s door, then rested his temple on his knuckles. “I believe you when you say it’s him, but he won’t admit it to them, ever. If you tell the Tummelt, wealthy, proud like fuck, and enamored of their only, ‘perfect’ son, that he’s a _thief,_ they’ll get so offended and angry they would and they _will_ sue you, and you know it, and the worst part is that they would _win_ the goddamn sue because you _don’t have proofs,_ Cor, you don’t have solid proofs and ‘he told me’ is not enough of a testimony, you _know_ it, you’re a cop!”

Cor just pouted and his frown deepened. Heavens above have mercy on him, this situation was the most exasperating and angering of his whole life. He thought he couldn’t feel any more frustrated when chasing DeMasque; knowing his identity had felt like it could make things easier, but really they just made them worse because, fuck him, he knew it for sure now but he had no way to prove it to _anyone._ If not catching him was a pain, having him at hand and only be forbidden to clasp his fingers around him was torture.

After a while, he heard Clarus sigh.  
“I’ll support you at catching him, Cor, but we can’t do that just like this” the Chief said. “We need to either catch him and cuff him during his scenes, or we’ll have to make his mask come off at some point so the cameras following him expose him. But not like this, Cor. It’ll only lead to the Tummelt signing a restriction order and making it a much harder task for you and for us.”

Cor pouted and frowned more. It was absurd, he felt like a kid who not only saw an alien but was greeted by it, and now dad was scolding him about lying, but worse, because Clarus did seem to believe him; so it felt like Dad was scolding him for suggesting they catch the alien before it proceeds to raid humankind. It sounded so logic to Cor, catch the bad guy before it could get worse, and people were putting up something so stupid as ‘proofs’. But he couldn’t deny anything that Clarus was saying. He understood. And Clarus was right in everything. He was unable to legally catch him until he had some material thing as if it was his permission ticket for it. Ironically, law was getting in the way of law.

They spent a while in silence. Clarus turned to look at him, seeing Cor upset in every way, as angry as he seemed to hurt him in some way. He knew that it was a hilarious and pretty dumb concept, the whole rivalry as if Loqi was some super villain when really he was just a clown that stole and gave things back, but it was important to Cor, and that was enough…so it wasn’t dumb, not really. It affected him, and Clarus was not going to tell him to just forget it or drop it. Yet, it wasn’t enjoyable to see his old friend in such state. 

Clarus contained a sigh. He moved a hand up and put it on Cor’s shoulder.  
“It’s fine” he said gently. “You’ll catch him one day.”

Cor still frowned, but the words stung a little. Loqi was making him feel useless. How could he catch mafia leaders, hidden psychopaths, dangerous criminals, but not one guy in a flashy outfit and a big hat? Still, Clarus’ support was very dear, and the sensation that he was the only one cheering on him made him feel touched. 

Clarus squeezed his shoulder and shook him a little, and then waited for a prudent while before asking Cor in a murmur if he was alright. Cor avoided eye contact, but he nodded, a little more calm. Clarus told him it was fine if he wanted to have the day off and go home, which Cor at first denied, but ended up accepting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole "He's Mask DeMasque's fan number one" plot/idea was taken from the game's story.
> 
> It was too hilarious to not include, dammit.


	6. Examination - Allegro

Cor sat at a bench, watching the gymnastics class go on, and waiting for the instructor to be done assigning tasks to everyone before attending him.

After the humiliation at the Tummelt’s, Cor still didn’t give up and decided to start elsewhere. When he looked at whatever else was connected to Loqi, he found a common factor both at the party and in his parents’ testimony: Highwind. Aranea, the daughter, to be exact. From what Cor could gather, she was a good friend of Loqi’s, so if the parents weren’t willing to drop the lie, Aranea had to be the closest this time. She had to know something, Cor guessed.  
And when he tracked her down, he found she was a gymnastics instructor.  
Well, he was expecting her to know something but this was as absurd as walking into Loqi’s room and have the whole Mask DeMasque base right fucking there. 

Cor watched her attending a last student and stay there while the child stretched. Then, after some conversation, she left the kid and started heading over towards Cor. When he saw this he stood up and waited for her.  
“So” the grey-haired young woman said in a sigh when she was close enough, then stopped in front of him. “What can I help you with, Marshal?”  
“Thank you for your time, miss Highwind” Cor said. “I just want to know a couple things about Loqi Tummelt.”  
“Hm” she hummed and gave him a smirk. “Still disappointed you weren’t the unexpected things at home back at the party. Going after him after being cockblock-zoned, Marshal?”  
“It’s not- no, just- please- don’t” Cor said closing the eyes and putting a hand up. She just giggled a little before trying to go back at being serious, resting her hands at her waist. “It’s something for my job reports, not personal interests.”

She still gave him a sly look as if expecting him to drop the severe look and start laughing, but he didn’t. She just sighed and rolled the eyes as if saying ‘well, some other day it will be’, then crossed the arms, letting her hips sway to a side, relaxed.  
“A’right” she said. “Shoot, I guess.”  
“I’m aware you’re good friends with him” Aranea hummed in a positive answer. “He told me at the party he enjoys gymnastics. Tying both things together, I’ll assume you either took classes together, or that you instruct him?”  
“I’m the teacher, cupcake” she said with pride. “Or was. He’s already at my level. Not better, though. No one is.”  
“Right. But his parents told me he doesn’t and has never taken gymnastics.”  
“Oh, they really mean it” she nodded. “At least, they think so” after a bit trying to understand, Cor gave her a look asking for a better explanation. She sighed. “His parents won’t allow him gymnastics. Say it’s vulgar, because they think it’s forceful to wear tights, and that the movements are ‘provocative’ just because they’re based on flexibility. They think Loqi’s still a baby virgin or something and don’t like that he reveals his body ‘too much’. Guess they think it’s vulgar that someone can both open the legs and show off a fine body” Cor felt his cheeks turn red, but he pretended it wasn’t happening. “But Loqi really likes it, he loves it. So what we’re doing is, he makes his parents think he goes to the tennis court, and he just comes here. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, one p.m., if you want to see him in tights one day, cupcake. Though that’s rather disgusting and I’ll be very repulsed by you if you do come just to see him in tights, but there’s the info if you want it.”

Cor put the eyes up only for a second as if asking the Astrals for patience with this woman that seemed more interested in seeing Loqi hookup with Cor than an actual life.  
“Anything else I can help you with?” Aranea asked. “I could give you his number if you want.”  
“No, no, I-” Cor again closed the eyes for a second, not knowing anymore how to kindly reject every new attempt at whatever she was trying. “I just…would appreciate if you could answer some questions for me, please.”  
“Alright. Shoot, cupcake.”

Cor went on with a variety of questions to try to get more info, whatever could be useful. Little did he ask and even less did he get that he didn’t know already; knowing the identity was really everything he needed and he already had that. At the end, he added the question that, was Loqi not her friend, and thinking as objectively as possible, what would she think if Loqi was accused of being involved in thievery charges?  
“Loqi?” she asked, then made a ‘psch’ noise. “Boy is an ass, an idiot, and a jerk sometimes, but he’s not a bad guy. He thinks criminals repulsive so far I know, so if not for morale, then at least for pride I don’t think he’d be your guy.”

…she seemed sincere. Fuck. The parents lying, according to Cor, and what seemed to be the best friend seeming sincere about not suspecting, it was so bad. She could still be lying, and Cor wouldn’t cross out that she was an accomplice, but he needed proof, and he was getting none here.  
Cor really was not going to have any options but catch the guy in one of his acts, was he…?

After putting a bit of thought into it and trying to think if there was anything else that he could ask that could be useful, he ended up thanking her and saying that would be all.  
“Loqi said you guys kissed” she let out without warning; Cor flinched and his face immediately turned red before he could help it. She smirked and leaned casually onto the pole she was holding, not even waiting for an answer. _“Ooh.”_ And she wriggled her eyebrows at him. “Are you sure you don’t want his number?”

Cor ended up just saying goodbye, entirely ignoring her question, and turning around, heading for the exit.  
“Are you sure?” Aranea still asked behind him, but he kept walking. “He said you’re excellent at that, if that convinces you!”

But Cor continued ignoring her and left without saying anything on the matter.

\--

Loqi shut the taxi’s door and pulled his phone out to check it for a bit. It wasn’t only after the taxi had left and Loqi put his phone down and gave a first step towards the entrance of the gym that he looked up. Immediately, he froze in his spot and watched with slightly big and very attentive eyes across the street.  
Standing there resting against a car was the Marshal, watching him.

It took Loqi a while standing there, watching with surprise, not having expected the sudden visit. While staring, he started smiling without even noticing, until it turned into a little though very well amused grin. Cor didn’t react in the slightest, staying across the street, arms crossed, and a calm if severe look upon his face. 

Cor barely reacted as he waited, watching Loqi look at both sides of the street before crossing and calmly head his way. The guy was in his tennis outfit, carrying with the bag and everything. The nearer to Cor, the more he seemed to swing or skip as if the situation amused him, until finally stopping in front of him and smiling up. They looked at each other for a while, Loqi giving him a look as if asking if he was not going to say hello or something. Cor looked away with a sigh and crossed his arms.  
“Tennis” he said and nodded with sarcasm. “Yes, your mother is very much aware of your activities.”  
“I did tell you they didn’t allow me my favorite hobbies, dear Marshal” Loqi replied, smiling. “I never said that what I told you I practiced was what they did allow me.”

Cor gave a sarcastic hum as if saying ‘Oh you don’t say?’. There was silence while Cor tried avoiding Loqi’s amused look, until the expected yet so angering question came up.  
“So are you not going to cuff me right now, Marshal?”  
“You’re not smart, you’re just lucky.”  
“That’s what they call me.”  
“You know, the longer you tease the lion, the harder it’ll bite.”  
“I sure hope that’s a promise.”  
“It’s a threat.”

Loqi gave him a wider smile and raised eyebrows. Cor stayed stoic and completely unfazed despite Loqi’s best attempts at getting a smile from him; as always, taking things as a joke, it seemed.  
“Come now, Marshal” Loqi sighed. “I did tell you no one would believe you. You can’t be mad at me, you did this to yourself.”

Cor didn’t reply at first. He only nodded slowly, looking away, not impressed. A moment later, he pushed himself to be standing normally rather than resting against the car, and put his hands to his waist.  
“I don’t need anyone to believe me, small stinky thief” Cor said lowly, looking down at a smiling Nif. “I’ll catch you anyway.”  
“No, you won’t.”

There was a moment of silence in which they just looked at each other, Cor still severe and Loqi still smiling, though, more than mocking, he seemed daring. He got closer, standing mere inches from the cop, as if testing him, teasing him, saying ‘You have your criminal right here and you can’t cuff him’. Cor caught the intention straight away and glared down at him, not wanting to give him the pleasure of bursting out in front of him.  
“You can try all you want, dear Marshal” Loqi murmured, adding a slight tone in his voice that made it sound a little more sensual; if it was on purpose or it was Cor’s imagination, he couldn’t tell. “But you won’t catch me. Even if we’re inches apart, you won’t…” Loqi put a pair of fingertips on Cor’s chest; despite not liking it, Cor didn’t move to, again, not give him the pleasure of getting angry as Loqi seemed to want from him. Loqi moved his fingers up Cor’s chest making them ‘walk’ across it, until he reached the collar of the shirt; from there he let go and gave a little caress to Cor’s chin, staring at his mouth for a moment. Cor’s eyebrow twitched while Loqi bit his own lower lip as he stared at Cor’s mouth, though a second later, he let go and looked up again at the cop, and gave him a smile. “…and you _know_ it.”

Cor stayed quiet at first. He eyed Loqi, and then his upper lip twitched as if ready to throw a bite.  
“I hope that’s a threat” he muttered.  
“That’s a promise.”

Cor didn’t reply. He kept glaring down at Loqi, but all that he earned out of it was a little grin, and a glimpse of the way Loqi passed the tip of his tongue right under his upper lip. After a moment of tension and silence just looking at each other, Loqi put a hand to Cor’s chest again and pushed at the time he took a step back.  
“Well, then…” Loqi said and let go of Cor’s chest. “Let’s see how this goes.”  
“You say that like it’s a competition.”  
“Is it not?”  
“Good luck to the best, then.”  
“I don’t need it but thank you.”

Cor started smiling, sarcastic and upset all at the same time. Loqi gave him a faked sweet smile and a shrug as if not seeing the problem, and Cor, amused by the whole situation, chuckled and shook the head, looking away.  
“Just leave, Loqi” Cor said with a shake of the head and his sarcastic smile present, looking again at him. Loqi laughed and threw the head slightly back. Then, he gave a few steps backwards. And, as he turned over himself, he gave Cor a last smile.  
“I always do.”

He gave Cor a last glance before finally giving his back to him and go away. Cor pressed his jaw as hard as he could and tried to not explode right in that spot, hiding behind a forced, sarcastic smile, even when Loqi wasn’t looking his way anymore. He watched the prince of sassiness go away, watched his stupid figure and the way his hips oh so subtly moved sensually with every step, angered because it _had_ to be on purpose because no one could look that good with a normal walk, had to be on purpose and Loqi’s plot to confuse him, sure that was it. 

Cor stood there until watching Loqi go into his ‘tennis’ gym and not glance back even once. Cor had been expecting maybe the idiot would do it as back at his parents’ and blow a mocking kiss his way. Not that Cor wanted him to- indeed, he would have been upset if he did. But he had still expected it. 

Saying no more, he turned around, opened the car’s door, and mentally swore the promise to one day defeat his now eternal sworn rival, Loqi Tummelt.

\--

About a week later, there was a crowd forming around a city’s museum. The drones were ready to capture the moment, the fanatics crowded behind the police’s set perimeters and cheering as if it was a crowd waiting for the pop singer of the moment to already come onstage. 

Soon enough, a police car arrived, carefully opening its path through the crowd and hurrying to the entrance of the museum. Cor stepped out of it and joined his second in command, who had been waiting there, keeping an eye on the building.  
“Any news?” the Marshal asked, heart pounding in his chest.  
“Not yet, Marshal” his officer replied. “But it should start soon.”  
Should start soon. Even the way they spoke among cops made it feel like it was a show rather than an actual crime scene. Despite it being two years into it, it had never stopped feeling and being ridiculous.

Cor waited there, giving instructions through the radio and to the officers around him, not once dropping his guard, and pacing around both thinking and ordering the best logistics he could think about to not let DeMasque out of the perimeter this time, as he always did. 

A couple minutes later, while the cheering increased, the lights pointed to a window, and, with the drumroll of his theme song, Mask DeMasque appeared from the inside of the building, hopping onto the windowsill as if appearing out of nowhere, and putting the hands up not to the police, but to his public; one of them held a bag with his loot.  
Cor looked up at him and his fists tightened immediately.  
The tiny scoundrel. 

Loqi- or, better said, Mask DeMasque, was holding both arms to the sides, open as if ready to receive the whole world in them, while enjoying of the cheering of his public, grinning widely at them.  
…grinning widely.  
For a moment, Cor’s anger gave in to the confusion; it wasn’t something so important that he noticed straight away so he needed to pay a little more attention to whatever was odd or new about this. Only after getting angry at that stupid mocking grin did Cor notice that he _could_ see the grin even though Loqi- DeMasque was wearing his mask, but it wasn’t the same broken one than before…

“Right on time as always, my dear Marshal!” Mas Demasque's voice echoed through the street and through the cheering crowd. Cor frowned again, glaring up at him. “I’m flattered you’re always so punctual. How may I thank you for such sweet attention?”  
“I want everyone in their positions right now!” Cor focused on giving his orders instead, his officers replying with a nod and dashing off to their places. Cor looked up at the window again, thankfully finding Loqi still there, as if patiently waiting for him. He thought about pointing a finger and yell some threat, but he was going to be very embarrassed if he did that and ended up not catching him. 

Despite the height in between, Cor saw Loqi’s smile widen a little, and a tiny movement made it seem like he had chuckled. DeMasque got a gentle grip of the tip of his hat, so he could bow the head a little to Cor, as if bidding goodbye. And so, like that, he held to a side of the window and swung to the outside, tailcoat free in the air, and soon he got a hold of the museum’s intricately decorated walls, which made it a not so hard task to climb up. Which DeMasque started doing, of course.  
Without a word, and with the little crowd cheering behind, Cor rushed to another building instead of going straight into the one Loqi was in, because, dear Astrals, how many times he had fallen in traps and tricks doing that. 

Minutes later, DeMasque had already charmed two officers hidden on rooftops, had escaped another three, and had run around two blocks not necessarily in straight line, following his non-patterned pattern to confuse and distract the officers while either planning his escape for real, or building up the scenario for it. Cor, as always, chased after him as best as he could; sometimes lost sight of him, radioed his mates to try to coordinate as best as possible to capture him, and ran around trying to think as strategically as possible. Knowing the identity of his prey, finally, gave him some clearer idea of what kind of person he was running after, which made it a little easier to predict his movements.  
Only a little, though. Cor was having the same bad luck as always. 

At some point, every officer lost sight of him. Cor stood in the middle of a street, looking around and a little panicked at the idea of losing again. Then, out of nowhere, the little crowd behind the perimeter started screaming louder than normal.  
And of course, when Cor looked back, there was Dmeasque, not only among the little crowd…but also getting a selfie with them. 

Cor ran as fast as he could towards them, but it was time enough for DeMasque to hold a phone along two fingers up as a pose, and snap his picture before dashing away without a word to any of his fans. The bastard ran away and laughed his mocking, villain laugh of always, loud enough to echo through the streets. Cor still chased him, avoiding the crowd and going after him as fast as was possible.

Like usual, DeMasque made him go in circles even when not running straight behind him. They crossed streets, got into a maze of alleyways, put obstacles to each other, tried hitting from the distance, escaped in the last second, and more.  
Soon enough, they were far from the first zone and the perimeter, and it had become a chase of only the two of them. The drones from the fans still tried following, losing them at times, but giving their best at trying to film the whole thing. 

Going into an alleyway, Cor almost caught up, thanks to faster, stronger, much longer legs; to stop him, DeMasque stopped for a few seconds to push a trash container in the way; Cor hopped past it; DeMasque threw a trashcan’s lid at him; Cor dodged and tried throwing another one back; DeMasque stopped it, and climbed a doorframe; Cor almost grabbed his ankle, DeMasque shook his foot free and threw himself at the windowsill above; Cor followed.  
DeMasque´s legs disappeared into the window of the apparently abandoned building, and only seconds later was Cor getting a grip of the windowsill, and throwing himself inside in the realization that there was no way Loqi could have moved much and he could even land on top of him if he had hurried enough, immobilizing him. The drones couldn’t follow into the building. 

Cor landed on his feet on the floor, not finding any person underneath him…but-  
He instantly jumped in his place and away, sure that there was something ready to catch him.  
…but nothing happened. He still flinched to the other side, ready for any trap, for any rope or sticky liquid or cuffs…but nothing happened. He stood abnormally alright in the room, no traps. Yet, he didn’t lower his guard. Loqi was a sneaky asshole with too much knowledge of magic tricks and his flexible movements (that, along his little size, were a big disadvantage to Cor), so he couldn’t lower the guard.

Which made it surprisingly fast when Cor felt someone grab his wrist; in a movement, he got free, turned around, got a hold of DeMasque’s clothes at the chest, lifted him off the floor, and slammed him against the wall.

There was a small, quiet “Ow”, followed by a dark giggle. Cor’s frown deepened and his entrails twisted in anger. He watched Loqi attentively, noting that it was, indeed, DeMasque he held in hands, with no trick. He kept the smaller man hardly pressed to the wall, inches from him, and not planning to let go. Cor eyed him, eyed the upgrades he had made to his costume, eyed his enemy, his rival, his nightmare and curse. DeMasque, on his side, just smiled at him, darkly, with that gleam in his eyes that Cor hated to look at because it was just- too damn hypnotizing. He tried looking away of his eyes to not fall into the spell, but his gaze instantly, without his permission, went to Loqi’s mouth. Exposed, beautiful, smiling, and wet. 

A moment later, Loqi titlted the head slightly to a side.  
“…do you like the upgrade I did to the mask, Cor?” he asked, and if animals were sounds, Loqi’s voice was definitely feline. Cor eyed him a little more, seeing the opening of his new mask; it left only enough space for the eyes, the rest was hidden, and there was a hole to expose the lower half of his face, from under his nose to right abovethe chin, and cheek to cheek. Loqi patiently waited for a reply, smiling at him, but Cor only eyed him, angry and severe. Loqi’s smile widened; his hands, that held to Cor’s wrists, started caressing the cop’s skin with the thumbs, gently. “I made it thinking about you. Seen as you were enjoying yourself so much last time, I thought I could have an easy access to my mouth without you needing to…you know, hit me with a pole.”

Angered at the teasing, Cor slammed Loqi against the wall again. Again, the thief let out a little whine more faked than real, and laughed lowly again.  
“You don’t look as pleased as I expected, dear Marshal” Loqi said lowly, slowly, with that tint of sensuality in the voice, tilting the head slightly to a side. He eyed Cor’s mouth and eyes a few couple times, taking his time with each, and soon widening a grin at the officer. Then, taking advantage that Cor was standing mere inches from him, DeMasque got a little closer to his face and whispered, “what a shame.”

And proceeded to lick Cor’s lips. Slow, barely breaking eye contact, tongue fully pressed on Cor’s face, starting at his chin, passing onto his lips one by one, and ending above his upper lip, dragging along slowly. Cor didn’t move as he did, even as slow as it was; he stayed stoic and severe, not even blinking, but breath a little heavy and shaky like trying to hold in his anger. Loqi broke apart slowly, barely getting away, and giving him that horrible, knowing smile. Cor tried to remain as severe as before, tried dissimulating a shaky breath as best as he could. He quickly licked his lips, unintentionally sucking his lower lip inside and biting down on it for a second before releasing. Loqi, who hadn’t broken eye contact with him all along, widened his stupid grin a little more, and looked down at his mouth again. Loqi reached with one of his hands towards him, resting the forearms on his shoulder, and the hand already looking for the back of Cor’s head.

Maddened, Cor closed the eyes for a second, looked away, and with a growl he pressed Loqi harder to the wall as if wanting to slam him against it again, before dropping him enough so he was on his feet again, and letting go of his clothes only to reach up and grab him by the neck, pressing him to the wall with a hand; by reflex, Loqi’s hands flew up to Cor’s big hand around him.  
“You- fucking little…” and whatever Cor said next was just an unintelligible series of muttering, all while he reached back to take his cuffs, thankfully still in their place. While he did, though, and he should have known that a hand was never enough when it was about Mask DeMasque, Loqi kept eye contact with him for a bit as if measuring when Cor lowered the guard just the tiniest bit, and, of course, in a blink, out of nowhere, he got free from Cor’s hand.

They struggled in only three or four seconds; DeMasque broke free, Cor grabbed him again, this time from the clothes, DeMasque got free and twisted around, Cor grabbed him again, DeMasque finished turning and hence breaking free once more, and before Cor could tackle him to the wall, Loqi basically dropped to the floor while Cor stumbled upon him and crashed on the wall face-first himself.  
A little startled but not letting that get in the way, Cor still tried turning around and dropping onto Loqi to trap him on the floor, but all he got was to fall facedown on wooden floor. He heard a series of footsteps dashing away and…of course, that little, stupid, mocking giggle.  
With a growled-screamed curse, Cor slammed his fists against the floor and used the impulse to get up and run after him. 

He saw the very usual sight that normally came before he lost, but Cor still kept running as if it was protocol; DeMasque’s figure jumping out of a window. 

Cor kept running even when he was aware that he had already lost. He reached the window and got a look of the outside.  
DeMasque was standing in the middle of the street, looking his way and waving a hand in large movements, while the other hand held the sack with his loot above his shoulder.  
When Cor appeared at the window, DeMasque took his hat off and offered a deep, flamboyant bow. Cor didn’t even bother trying to rush after him. He calmly hopped past the window and carefully went down, at the time the thief put his hat back on, turned around, and started running away with his characteristic maniac laugh echoing through the street. 

Cor didn’t bother going after him. He stood at the street, heart rushing and breath still a little shaky from the chase. He put his hands at his waist and watched Loqi’s shadow grow tinier and tinier until finally disappearing. The little drone was still there watching him, as if expecting a reaction or a comment. Cor didn’t glance its way. The people had material enough to keep laughing at him to give them any more. He had reached a point where he truly didn’t care much about the other people, even less of what they thought or said.  
All he thought about now was Loqi. Almost not even DeMasque: just…Loqi. The man under the mask, the real person behind the character. 

The…idiot. The absolute bastard.  
It was absurd. Now that Cor was midways through solving the case, DeMasque had not turned weaker; on the opposite, he was now toying with him twice as he had been doing before Cor knew his identity.

Oh, but he would see, Cor swore. This was not the last time they met.  
Cor would catch him one day. His sworn eternal rival could not fool him forever. He would fall. Cor would _win._

He just needed to catch him, and the gods damn him, he was going to do it at any cost.


	7. Obligatory Montage

And so, Cor and Loqi’s rivalry and encounters kept happening as they did for the last two years, some of which were unexplainably entertaining, and sometimes silly as they were.

DeMasque stole from a bank’s safe.   
The police arrived to the scene and, as always, secured the area, yet the Phantom Thief proved to be too much for them all over again.

The police opened the huge door of the safe to find DeMasque calmly collecting the money into his sack; the large group of officers ran inside and surrounded the room, pointing their guns up and yelling ‘Freeze!’ The Thief still took a couple seconds calmly collecting the rest before throwing the sack above his shoulder and turning around.   
“Don’t move!” an officer yelled. DeMasque looked around a little, making the officers tense as if though he had pulled out a bomb. Now able to see his mouth, they saw DeMasque not helping a grin; the reaction from the cops made him feel flattered, thinking such reaction from only looking around was a consequence of the police being very aware of how good he was that only looking around was already dangerous. 

“Disappointed your Marshal isn’t here” DeMasque pointed out. Then, while half stayed in their position, half the officers ran towards him, ready to tackle, and the fun started.

While not letting go of the sack, Mask DeMasque proceeded to start dodging officers; the first that tackled, he dodged to a side, then quickly pulled back to avoid a second; let himself drop backwards to form an arch as to avoid the third, and in the same movement lifted the legs to complete a slow flip backwards and avoid a fourth and fifth. The second round of officers ran towards him again, and his light feet kept going as if though dancing, smoothly moving, as if they knew perfectly where to go with choreographed precision, one move taking him instantly to the next one almost without transition. 

The rounds of officers kept standing back up and coming after him, but he kept dodging with a little too much grace; at some point, he threw the sack, in what the officers thought was a way of giving up at least the loot, but ended up being a move to hit an officer, grab both edges of the sack from around an ankle, then use it to make the cop fall down.

After having a little too much fun watching twelve armed officers fail at catching one clown, DeMasque started laughing, not helping the amusement, and looked for an opening; having it after managing to make two officers tackle each other, DeMasque grabbed his loot and rushed to the outside. The officers tried to rush after him, but DeMasque exited before them and shut the door as quickly as he could, making it automatically become tight shut again.  
Right as he was mid huge laughter, he was suddenly slammed against the door with a groan.

Before even opening the eyes again, DeMasque smiled widely and tried looking over his shoulder.  
“Marshal!” he greeted a bit too excitedly. “I knew you’d be here! How rude of you it’d have been if you hadn’t come to our date- ow!”  
“You’re under arrest for-!”  
But before he knew it, and as always, somehow DeMasque figured a way to drop and slip past his legs; Cor tried turning around, but DeMasque used his sack on his ankles to make him fall.

Normally, he dashed away.  
That once, before Cor could stand up, he felt a gentle pat on his butt. He froze for a moment, gasping quietly. When he turned around, he found DeMasque already a few meters away, looking his way. Loqi made a phone gesture with his hand.  
“You sure you don’t want it?”

Cor blushed red, but he was quick to stand on his feet and dash after DeMasque, who ran away with one of his mischievous, comical laughs.

Cor ran after Mask DeMasque through the streets and roofs, as was most usual.

The Phantom Thief’s coat seemed to swing in the air with every one of his flamboyant movements, all while avoiding any officer he found in the way and keeping an eye on the only one that didn’t give up so soon: as always, the Marshal. The drones that filmed and played DeMasque’s theme followed as best as they could do, and, at times, DeMasque took the time to wave hello somehow before having to move away to not get caught.

At some roof, Cor grabbed a stick and tried using it to knock DeMasque’s mask off, only that. He could go if he wanted, he didn’t need to pin him anywhere, he just needed the stupid mask to come off. So, they engaged in close-range combat, Cor swinging his stick, and DeMasque dodging and avoiding as best as he could, turning it into an entertaining, almost cinematographic scene. Cor swung, DeMasque dodged; in the same movement, the Marshal made the stick return, yet DeMasque avoided the hit once more. 

_“What_ are you doing, dear Marshal?” DeMasque asked among little laughs a while into having to dodge the silly, new attacks. Cor didn’t reply; he kept trying. “Stop! It’s getting annoying!”  
“Well, then you can now understand how it feels being around you” Cor replied, then tried thrusting the stick again. Dodging, DeMasque grabbed the stick from the other end, and both struggled a little trying to pull it at the same time. DeMasque let go and stumbled a little backwards, then gave Cor a smirk.  
“Wow” he said sarcastically. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you dislike me” and as they spoke, the struggling started again, stick coming and going, and DeMasque dodging.  
“Aren’t you the most observant?”  
“Come on” DeMasque said as if though it was obvious, stepping backwards. “You can’t hate me. I’m adorable.”  
“Mispronounced deplorable.”

And so, after dodging a hit from the stick, DeMasque stood straight upwards and put a hand to his chest, taking in a sharp gasp. Cor stayed still for a second, frowning at him as if asking now what.  
“…I am offended” DeMasque said. Cor rolled the eyes and was ready to go in with the stick again when DeMasque pulled a handkerchief out to clean away fake tears (on top of the mask, mind you). “I…who give you _everything_ of my soul-” and the stick hit him on the forehead. “Hey!”

And so while Cor tried hitting again to try and make the mask fall, DeMasque dropped backwards to fall on his hands, complete a flip, and dash away with a little laugh. 

After stealing from a rich woman’s house, DeMasque ran away from the police as always through the streets, taking alleyways and taking support on either the gymnastic moves that he clearly mastered, or by tricking officers with any stupid magic trick.

A rabbit, three cards, a coin, and a colorful handkerchief later, the chase was reduced to the Marshal and Mask DeMasque only as was usual, one going after the other. Cor was giving his best at not getting tricked too, very much ( _very_ much) acquainted with Loqi’s most common magic tricks by this point to fall into it, but still keeping an eye up because the boy was just impossible. 

After having stayed behind for a bit, Cor stopped at the entrance of an alleyway because the gods damn the millions of times he had stayed behind, rushed into a corridor, and gotten his feet stuck on super glue, fallen due to wet floor, or walked into a glass wall or had had a mask or fake spider scaring him making him fall on his butt, or tricked into going the wrong way or _goddammit,_ that was a lot of scenarios and this better not be another one.  
Thankfully, the alleyway seemed to be clear; DeMasque stood nearby the other end, and turned to look at him, as if suddenly caught.

Then, out of nowhere, while making eye contact with him, DeMasque opened the mouth in a round shape, tongue not shy; Cor couldn’t help but look at that characteristic and truly sensual mouth doing its work, thinking Loqi was about to pull another of the recent sexual pranks on him…lick something falic-shaped…put a finger inside…something to try and distract him with that…that stupid, horrible, unique, beautiful mouth, in vain, of course, in vain it would be because Cor was unmovable and this was not going to work, he was ready for whatever act he was going to-  
-and of course Loqi started pulling out a chain of colorful kerchiefs tied together. 

Cor’s shoulders dropped at the time he groaned and rolled the eyes. Losing no time, while Loqi did his silly cheap-magician trick, Cor dashed towards him, and the closer he was the more DeMasque rushed at pulling out the rope. By the time Cor was reaching him, Loqi finished pulling it out and held an end of it, and even though Cor kept running, he thought Loqi was going to somehow manage to have already tangled him and make him fall or something like that.  
Surprisingly, he managed to grab DeMasque and, by mere impulse, he pushed him against a wall. 

For a moment, Cor worried at the sound of DeMasque’s groan, but the clank of the mask against the wall reminded him he had not really injured him thanks to the stupid thing. A little shaken from not having expected to get so far and to not have fallen into one of the usual tricks, Cor stayed still, startled and a little surprised, but not taking his hands off the little man between him and the wall. Soon enough, Loqi let out a low giggle.   
“Did you see how much I can shove in my mouth?” he asked playfully. Cor put a hand on the back of his head and pressed him harder against it, making him groan in complaint and discomfort.  
“You watch your mouth, Tummelt, it never stops and I’m getting tired” Cor muttered angrily while not being sure whether to let go of one of Loqi’s forearms to reach for his cuffs or not, still scared of the trick he had yet not seen.  
“My, it’s normally the other way around” DeMasque mused. “Normally, people are happy that it never stops.”

Cor pressed him harder again, twisting his forearms a little and making him hiss.   
“Ow! Be kinder!”  
“I said: watch your mouth” Cor hissed at him again, almost into his ear. He heard Loqi giggle again, low and dark.  
“Maybe you should teach me what to do with it, then, dear Marshal” DeMasque whispered lowly and with _that_ tint in the voice. 

For a moment, Cor did nothing but angrily breathe in Loqi’s ear. DeMasque stayed strangely calm, and so soft, so very soft between him and the wall. Cor pressed a little more against him, but the sensation of almost _feeling_ Loqi smile, it made him get away, not letting go of the thief.   
“You’re so annoying” Cor muttered, and he started stepping backwards, deciding to not let go of neither of Loqi’s forearms just in case he had magically done something to his cuffs again. “Put your best smile on, the cameras-”

And of course he stumbled with the rope of kerchiefs right behind him.  
Even though he tried recovering balance, it was enough for Loqi to break free from him and put distance in between; however, as Cor recovered balance and tried to get him again, DeMasque already had hold of the rope again, and dodged at the time he threw an end around Cor, rounded him, dodged as he rounded him again, and rounded once more until he got to tie the made-up rope around the officer enough to pull and make him fall down flat on the ground this time. 

Before Cor could get free from the kerchiefs, because he was not an idiot and he was strong, DeMasque rushed to try and keep rounding him, all while Cor tried either grabbing him or breaking free, becoming a struggle between the two. Cor started swearing, angry, and Loqi started swearing, amused. Finally, DeMasque managed to get a nice knot of one of Cor’s hands against his back, while the other had long ago gotten stuck as to having the whole arm tied against the torso. Defeated, and tied all over the body with the colorful rope, Cor just stayed thrown on the ground, sighing angrily and giving up. 

Instead of running away, Loqi got close to him from behind. Calmly, he put a foot at one of Cor’s side, then the other on the other side, and he went down to sit on Cor’s back, straddling him. He leaned down and forwards and put his hands on Cor’s shoulders; the Marshal immediately tensed and started struggling again. While he did, Loqi moved down close to Cor’s face. Cor tried moving away but little could he do trapped as he was. Not breathing, Cor closed the eyes tightly as if though he was about to be tortured. Then, Loqi pressed a little, tender peck to Cor’s cheek. Still, Cor didn’t open the eyes nor continued breathing.   
DeMasque laughed a little and stood up, going back to grab his sack from where he had last thrown it before having to engage in his ‘dance’ with the Marshal.

Without a word more, Loqi grabbed his hat from where it had fallen, put it back on, and ran away. Only until his steps faded, Cor let go of the breath he had been holding, took a big one in, and dropped his face to the floor. 

Cor and DeMasque ran around the four floors of the luxurious boutique DeMasque had gone in to do his mischief. The thief’s silhouette would sometimes jump from a staircase to another. More carefully, the much bigger though less gracious figure of the cop would follow, not always following the same route but always trying to either create a shortcut or catch up. 

Cor tried to be careful with the other things in the boutique, which proved another problem, not to mention all lights were off during that midnight. At least things in a museum were in strong crystal boxes or flat on a wall, but the boutique was proving a little harder. Yet, two years into being trained at chasing this rat had given him experience, and he moved agile between the expensive designer clothing and accessories. 

Crossing a room, DeMasque grabbed a large shawl off a mannequin and made a quick, large swing with it, perhaps hoping Cor to get tangled in it. Cor stopped in time and put the shawl away while it was still mid air, but DeMasque was suddenly out of sight. He dashed and exited through the only door he could have gone through, and soon saw his silhouette run through a corridor, his shadow getting color whenever he crossed some of the paths of lights coming through the large windows. Cor ran after him, and saw him go into a room. Losing no time, Cor rushed inside, saw DeMasque in the middle of the room, saw him still running, he sped up, and he threw himself towards him, successfully tackling him down.

Falling on top of him, DeMasque hit the floor facedown. Made a rushed mess, Cor moved up as to not be sprawled on top of him and straddling him better, grabbed him, and a little harshly turned him around; almost as soon as DeMasque was face-up, Cor’s hand flew to his face, he took the mask and pulled it off, and-  
“Wh-” Cor’s heart skipped a beat, and he was so genuinely startled that he couldn’t even formulate the question. The mannequin had a smiley face, almost childish. 

Cor stayed sat on the mannequin’s torso, confused, unable to take the eyes off the smiley face. When he did, he only looked at the fake mask in his hand, still confused.   
How the heck? He was sure it was- how? 

Interrupting his thoughts, the ray of light that was on him was then shadowed. Aware of the presence, he looked behind him; outside the room, and across the corridor, on the large window stood Mask DeMasque. He stood proud and sassy as always, a little too fabulous for Cor’s taste. Cor frowned and couldn’t help but pout. Still having a hold of the mannequin’s shirt, he pulled it up just enough to toss it back down, and he stood up. He started hurrying towards the open window where Loqi stood, and, as he did, DeMasque stepped aside and gracefully let himself fall down as if though he would levitate and land gently. Hurrying as to not let him escape, Cor ran this time- only to crash into a crystal-clean window he didn’t know was there. 

The last thing he heard after he groaned from the hit and while holding his forehead was that stupid, mischievous laugh, and all he could do was but sigh. 

Cor saw Loqi from afar once at the supermarket. He was off duty, in civilian clothing, buying groceries. The sassy thing appeared from an aisle, with his parents. Loqi saw him; his parents didn’t. Cor and Loqi, both off duty, ‘off stage’ as Loqi had started calling it, made eye contact and kept it for a while.  
Then, Loqi went and hugged his mother like a spoiled, loving kid. His mom chuckled and hugged back, focusing in the hug, while Loqi glance in Cor’s way above her shoulder without her noticing.   
Cor glared and pouted. Loqi smiled.   
Cor flicked him off. 

The Marshal managed to get a hold of DeMasque’s shirt, and as soon as he could, he pinned him to the alleyway’s wall. After recovering from the movement and the hit, Loqi made eye contact with the officer, and he smiled.   
“Marshal” he called as if between offended and teased. “If you keep pinning me against walls, our fans will start noticing your fetishes.”  
“Why have you been saying things like that lately?” Cor growled, by this point used to casual conversations with his nemesis during their encounters. “I hate you and I thought it was clear.”  
“Yes, it’s pretty clear” Loqi gave him smart eyes and a wider smile. “But so was that kiss, you sure were having a good tim-”  
“Oh my god, not again-”  
“-come on, you even held my hands down!” Loqi said a bit too joyfully, then laughed. “Who’d have thought you were such a perverted gentleman, hm? Marshal?”   
“I told you already, that was _your_ provocation, and it meant nothing to me” Cor growled at him. “I just fell in another of your stupid tricks. You do it to everyone, so it’s no different, why are you targeting specifically me?”  
“Hm…” Loqi hummed, tilting the head to the side. “My dear Marshal. Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

Cor rolled his eyes at him. Loqi smiled, turning it to a chuckle.  
“What’s your escapade now, Loqi?” Cor asked between sarcastic and victorious, and genuinely used to lose every time. Loqi, who was holding Cor’s wrists with his hands, pinned to the wall as he was, put an index up to point upwards. Cor gave him a blank, unimpressed look for a long while. Loqi kept insisting. Cor shook the head. “Nope. Not going to turn.”

And it wasn’t necessary. The bucket landed right onto Cor’s head without him needing to look up.   
If having his head in a bucket wasn’t his defeat, it at least was the opening, the distraction DeMasque needed to struggle back and break free, then sneak past Cor’s legs and dash away.

The crowd cheered when they saw DeMasque’s figure cross the sky from a roof to another.   
The lights tried searching for their protagonist, the music filling the scenario coming from different apartments, all speakers synchronized. The little drones, as always, tried to catch the action, either looking for DeMasque or for the Marshal who chased with no less agility.  
Both figures flew through the roofs; ran through them, jumped from ledges to edges, tried creating shortcuts, outsmarted each other, outsmarted the outsmarting, and so on and on around a couple blocks. 

While the music went on repeat and the cheering crowd grew quieter, Cor lost sight of him for a moment. Then, he caught movement somewhere nearby; he turned to find DeMasque two roofs away. He hurried and tried to not lose sight of him to not fall into any stupid trick.   
When he was a roof away, DeMasque flashed a mirror his way to blind him momentarily. When Cor recovered, he found…DeMasque still standing there. But in front of a big advertisement, frozen, posing, as if wanting to just…pretend he was part of it.   
Cor looked at him with a severe yet not impressed look and rolled the eyes. 

He hurried towards the other roof, close enough to only need to hop past a little fence, and calmly walked towards the posing man pretending to be part of the 3D-illusion poster. Cor kept going, wary; he was mostly sure of what was happening, but he still feared to make some stupidity that would end up ridiculing him. However, the closer he got, the more he confirmed that it was a real person and not part of the poster; as still as Loqi was standing, there was volume so it had to be him.  
“You have to be shitting me” Cor said calmly and kept going his way. He stopped in front of the poster and decided to not do anything until making sure, because goddammit he knew this guy and his endless tricks and he was tired of falling in them.

Cor frowned and stared intensely, waiting for any tiny movement, the tiniest to confirm this was not a 3D painting tricking him, as there was poor light and it could just be a real-sized stupid doll. Cor leaned down, face close to DeMasque’s, paying attention, frowning and glaring.  
Then, from the holes for the eyes of his mask, he saw his eyes move to look at him.  
“You, tiny shit!” Cor yelled as he threw his hand towards DeMasque’s neck, only to have it crash against cardboard. “Ow!”  
And the mischievous laugh of every damn time. In full questioning of _how_ the heck he had done it and if this was magic for real, Cor checked again- and, of course, the poster had perfectly cut holes for anyone to stand behind and put the eyes there.   
The sly fox…

By the time Cor rounded the poster, DeMasque had already jumped off the roof, and nothing but a smiley sticker was left behind.

Loqi stopped near the entrance of the gym, feeling the stare. When the taxi that dropped him there left, he looked at the other side of the street.  
Cor was giving him a severe glare and a frown, arms crossed.   
Loqi smiled and waved.  
Cor flicked him off.

Cor ran after DeMasque through the open, empty streets of the secured area. Loqi, with his sack at his shoulder, ran and laughed, then turned into an alleyway. Cor ran in after him, and chased him through a labyrinth of back alleyways. Then, after a moment, hearing as Loqi stumbled upon a can, Cor looked into one of the sides and he saw just in time as a door closed. He huffed and ran, trying to not waste time.

With a kick, he made the door fly open only to find a pitch black room, yet he could hear plenty movement, the rustle of clothing, and footsteps, even fade whispers. Not sure what was in the room and not wanting to fall in the trap, Cor looked nearby the wall and found the switch. He turned it on and-  
“Marshal!”  
The usual greeting.  
In at least forty different voices. 

Cor couldn’t help but let out a loud curse at the sight of more or less forty Mask DeMasque’s in the room, all crammed in together with enough space for a few steps each, all of them together as a crowd looking at him. When they saw him, all of them put the arms up and started cheering, then tried approaching him. Cor stood frozen, eyes open wide as if though he was witnessing a moster eating a child inch by inch, and gave a step back when the DeMasques got closer. Cor was used to Loqi using props, but…real people!? How did he convince…? Well, no, that one was easy, what with the large fanbase he had. But how did he even contact them!?

Still in sort of a shock, Cor was grabbed by an arm and dragged into the sea of people; some were taller, shorter, bigger or smaller, some had a different shade of blond of the hair, some wore wigs, and the costumes were all different quality. Looking closely, some looked like homemade. Yet, they all greeted him and tried to call his attention, and then they started doing it.  
“Hello, Marshal! I’m the real one!” said a feminine voice.  
“Marshal, over here! I’m the real one!” a guy greeted from somewhere, waving a hand.  
“Marshal!”  
“Marshal, over here!”  
“The real one is here, Marshal!”  
“Hey, Marshal, I’m the real one!”

And so on and on while they surrounded Cor and overwhelmed him. For a while it was just all the different DeMasques hugging his arm, moving around him, or bouncing on their feet, trying to call his attention, and he could do but stare around, startled. At some point, however, Cor turned and his heart skipped a beat when he saw it; the overly sensual eyes, and that stupid mouth.   
From among the crowd, Loqi gave him a sly, little smile.  
“Hello, Marshal” he greeted. “I’m the real one.”

Cor stared eye widened at him for a moment, and then thought about stretching a hand to grab him by the neck. He did, however, catch the legal hole in there.  
A Mask DeMasque themed party. He couldn’t just catch a random one, even if it was the real-real one, without the others banding together to get him out of jail. Because no one here knew who the real one was. So no one could tell. All testimonies would be ‘I’m not sure, we were 50 people wearing the same and the real one came in while it was dark’.   
Cor could almost hear random teens, maybe Loqi himself: “What are they going to do, cuff all of us?”

Cor wasn’t sure what would be more humiliating, join the party or leave from where he came from, so he just stood there for a moment, unimpressed look upon his face, still, while everyone cheered around him.

DeMasque ran past the streets and into a park. Following as close as he could manage after a series of misfortunes, Cor tried catching up with him at the same time he tried getting rid of the ribbon tangled all over his body. DeMasque went downhill and Cor followed; Loqi went around the park, jumped a bench, a couple bushes, and kept going, all with the cop following behind. DeMasque got to a tree and, instead of keep going straight, he held the trunk and used it for a U turn around it, then ran the other way; Cor, unable to stop fast enough, stumbled a little before retaking his way as well. 

A while later and after losing him, Cor heard noises from a tree.  
“Get down here this instant!” he yelled as he tried searching from his spot in the ground for a shadow. He could see the shadow moving, so he pulled out his stun gun out and tried aiming, but didn’t fire, deciding not to until he was sure. After the rustle from the trees grew quiet, and while Cor focused a lot in trying to figure out the shape, the corner of his sight caught movement.   
He had been watching whatever else in the trees while the bastard thief was going away many meters away.   
“Hey!” Cor yelled, then broke out running towards him, only getting a glimpse of DeMasque’s tailcoat hiding behind a large rock. 

Cor ran and ran, speeding up, because the area was clear and open and wide and there was no way Loqi had set up a trap for him, so he just kept running as fast as he could.  
And fast as he was going, he fell face-first to the ground when the ground changed from grass and snow to the frozen lake, that reflected the night sky in a way so that it was easy to miss it. Moved from his own speed, Cor still slipped through the ice, fell down flat on his tummy, sprawled all over it, and still kept slipping for a while, flailing a little in a reflex to stop. After stopping enough, Cor tried putting the hands to the ice and carefully started pulling himself up on his feet, but he ended up struggling, slipping and half-going down again.

While Cor struggled a bit too much with trying to stand up and slipping and flailing around, Loqi appeared from a side, already in ice skates, gracefully and very peacefully skating through the ice. He went on a medium circle around Cor, then turned over himself, lifting a leg and putting the arms to the sides, having fun and mocking him. Cor, as best on his feet as he could manage in the middle of the frozen lake, tried swinging an arm towards him in an attempt to throw him down and catch him, but Loqi spun enough to dodge him, and so making Cor fall down again.  
“Careful, Marshal, it’s no good skating without skates” he said, rounding Cor again. The cop tried standing up again, and as soon as he had it, Loqi got near him and, without stopping, he grabbed Cor’s butt.

It made him flinch hard enough to slip and fall down again, while DeMasque laughed and skated away.

DeMasque ran into a room. Cor ran into the room as well, pulled his stun gun out, and kept going his way. Suddenly, DeMasque stood still at the other end of the room, nearby the window. Then, before Cor stopped and put the gun up, he felt himself step onto something.  
He looked down. When he saw the invisible thread under his sole, his heart skipped a beat before it sped up and his head started throbbing, in a sudden state of immediate alert.  
Oh no. Invisible threads! Oh, no, everything but that!  
Loqi always set up traps like that, and Cor always either ran into them or stepped on them and things happened; balloons from the ceiling, bats from the wall (real, genuine bats, how did he even get them!?), some sticky substance that got him both slipping and getting stuck, electroshocks even, oh no, not the electroshocks!!

And so, Cor fell into panic; he started looking around almost with desperation, stepped aside, and when nothing happened he rushed to the other side, so fast he stumbled upon his own feet, then tried covering his head but nothing was happening, which only increased his panic and had him keep moving to avoid whatever trap he was falling into.  
And so Cor fell into the trap by not falling in any. He forgot about Loqi himself, terribly preoccupied by the trap as he was, moving in his spot; turning over himself, looking in every direction to spot the trap, dodging invisible things.

Loqi laughed out loud, opened the window, and hopped past it and to the outside, getting his clean escape. By the time he did, Cor realized what he had done.  
The bastard had set no trap. He only made Cor think he did, and, by not finding it, Cor got distracted looking for it.  
His own panic was the trap.   
Shiva have mercy, Cor threw a tantrum in that room for about five minutes.

Loqi and his dad were in a restaurant that Cor had the luck to walk past.   
Tummelt father was sat on the chair that gave its back to the street, so he didn’t notice. Tummelt junior, however, was perfectly in sight. Cor stopped in his way, shamelessly staring from across the street. He saw Loqi laugh a little at whatever conversation he was having, cut a slice of his food, and bring it to his mouth. It was after Loqi had swallowed that he noticed him staring. They stared at each other for a while and, before Tummelt father would notice, Loqi put his attention back in his dad, and pointed something in the menu to show him.

While Tummelt father was distracted with the menu, Loqi looked back up at the Marshal and discreetely waved a hand. Cor frowned at him.   
Loqi blew him a shameless kiss.  
Cor flicked him off with both hands.

Loqi hopped past a roof’s ledge, using the hands for support and legs going first as to not lose one second when he landed to keep running. Cor hopped past the ledge seconds later using only a hand and going sideways, trying to catch up.   
DeMasque ran through the open roof for a while before coming to a stop. There weren’t nearby roofs as was usual for his escapes, and perhaps he was hesitating. Not wasting one second in thinking about that, Cor pulled the stun gun out and stood some meters from him, afraid that DeMasque would play a prank on him if he got too close, because it wasn’t usual for Loqi to make a mistake this big for it to really be a mistake.

“Freeze!” Cor yelled while pointing the gun at him. DeMasque turned to face him and stayed quiet for a bit, before relaxing in his spot and chuckling. “Don’t try anything funny” Loqi opened the mouth ready to make a joke about the word ‘funny’, but before he could, Cor gestured at him with the gun. “On your knees.”  
Loqi laughed.  
“On my knees!” he exclaimed. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”  
“Oh, stop it already!” Cor yelled, getting a little closer, foot sliding instead of stepping as to be careful of any strings. “You’re not funny. On your knees, I said!”  
“How dare you say I’m not funny!?” Loqi exclaimed as if offended, stomping a foot on the floor. Cor flinched a little at the movement, fearing it had been on purpose for distraction to trigger some magic trick or the trigger itself. “I take a lot of troubles to have fun with you every time we meet, you know!”  
“Well, you’re failing!” Cor yelled back. “Ashamed to ruin the fun for you, but I barely have any fun when we meet.”

Loqi put both index fingers up and made some weird nod as if asking him to pay attention.  
“But you said ‘barely’” he said. “So you have at least a _bit_ of fun when you see me, right?”  
By answer, Cor rolled his eyes and sighed angrily, and got an inch closer, gun still up.  
“When I see you” Cor started, highlighting a sarcastic tone of his voice, “I feel nausea.”  
Loqi took in a sharp, offended gasp.  
“Excuse me?”  
“I don’t want to see you, that’s what I mean!” Cor yelled at him, finger pressing slightly to the trigger.   
“Your wish is my command!”

Loqi snapped his fingers with both hands, made an X with the arms, and became invisible.  
“What the f-!?” Cor put the gun down, staring at the last spot where Loqi was supposed to be, jaw dropped and heart so fast it nearly burst out of his ribcage. How had he done that!? There was no flashes or props or anything nearby that he could- no, this was just a stupid trick again, it wasn’t magic, he was- mirrors, he had to be using mirrors, it was not the time to panic and fall into the trick like always. Trying to outsmart the whole thing, Cor stared around trying to spot anything that could be useful to uncover the trick, too scared to get close. 

Instead, Cor took a little rock nearby, and he tossed it at where Loqi had been, expecting it to hit a mirror…but it just flew past the spot where he swore it had to be. He stared at it with shock. Impossible…how? He tried throwing something else thinking maybe he had missed and it was further away, but he hit nothing again. Startled and confused, he looked around, then slowly started getting close, with a hand stretched ahead to not walk into the mirror and be stupid. Feet sliding instead of stepping, slow, so very slow, and with a hand ahead, Cor made his way forwards, little by little. Finally, falling in no trap, his fingers rubbed the surface of a crystal clean mirror, angled so Cor’s reflection wasn’t there and just the skyline’s. He looked at it victorious; yes, he had the little shit, he had to be behind this thing!

Out of nowhere, from behind the mirror, a hand came out and grabbed his; a little panicked, Cor stumbled backwards, tried grabbing it and started struggling with it for a few seconds until he noticed it was but a Hallow’s Night figurine and he was fighting a prop skeleton in a cheap coat. 

The mischievous laugh switched his reflex mode on, so by instinct, at the sound of the laugh, he stood up and dashed forwards.  
When he crashed into the mirror after having forgotten it was there, Cor didn’t try to get back up again, he just laid there and sighed reflecting about his entire life.

DeMasque was running through some storage buildings nearby the local circus. Thankfully, DeMasque had not run inside the circus or Cor would have really had troubles, because DeMasque would turn that into a show and thanks, no. Instead, after robbing an antique shop, the Phantom Thief ended up opening doors of the buildings nearby to try and make his escape. Cor chased him around one of the buildings, that seemed mostly abandoned; DeMasque took the staircase, and Cor followed promptly through the stairs, corridors, and into rooms as they used to. Like always, DeMasque tried putting obstacles in his way, but Cor kept going, decided to catch him for real this time.

Like always, the night was dark and grey, yet DeMasque’s silhouette guided him. After a chase up to the fifth floor of that building, Cor saw DeMasque open a window and jump to the next building, close enough so it wasn’t a dangerous jump. Cor followed. Once he too crossed the window, he ran where he saw DeMasque go, and caught glimpse of him disappearing through an open door. Letting out a breath, Cor ran as fast as he could in the same direction, not stopping, speeding up, crossing the open door- and the floor disappeared.  
Immediately after falling down, however, by reflex he grabbed the nearest thing, which ended up being a bar.  
Which, however, when grabbed it detached from its place, and Cor fell while holding it…to end up making a curve in the air, like a pendulum. 

Suddenly, some lights came on out of nowhere, blinding him momentarily, and circus music came on. Cor looked down but saw a dark floor only, many meters below; he looked up at what he was holding and finally made sense to it.  
A flying trapeze.   
He wasn’t sure what to do; from the platform he had fallen off, he couldn’t get back to, and there was nothing in front of him, and he couldn’t just let go. Fearing to stay stuck, he swung the legs forwards to keep the pendulum half-circle going, thinking it was better to be close to the platform than in the middle of nowhere. 

And, of course, a moment later he saw movement from the other side of the room, and in a few seconds DeMasque appeared in the second platform, grabbed the second trapeze, and let himself drop off, holding to it like a professional.   
“Loqi…!” Cor yelled, but didn’t go on, not helping but look down in fear. It was high, very high and there was nothing underneath. Loqi had put him in difficult situations, but this could be deathly. Was he for real!? Like it wasn’t enough with having fallen down and out of nowhere be swinging on a flying trapeze with no protection, the sudden lights that filled the room with colors and the creepy circus music were not helping with feeling startled and out of place. “Loqi, stop this right now!”

But DeMasque only laughed, swinging in his own trapeze. Cor still stared down and tried to hold on with all his strength, nervous that sweat on his hands would betray him or that he would lose balance. Fuck, shit, fuck a thousand times, he was ready for everything but not this…! He had never in his life done this, he had no idea how it worked, and he didn’t want to fall down!!

Both swung for a while each on their own trapeze, until, at some point, Loqi moved as athetically as always, and soon, flipping, he was sat on his.  
“You better catch me, Marshal!”  
“Wha-!?” at the idea, Cor’s stomach dropped and his heart stopped. “No, Loqi, don’t jump, I can’t! Don’t do it!”

Too late; Loqi dropped to hold with the hands again, swung as far up as he could to get impulse, and he jumped off his trapeze. Due to the reflex of needing to lend a hand to catch him, Cor almost let go of his own trapeze and he was sure he had a heart attack as soon as DeMasque was in the air with nothing to hold him; a second later, Loqi held to him without needing to be caught, hugging him with arms and legs. They lost balance and the trapeze moved side to side while still going forth and back.   
“Are you _insane!?”_ Cor yelled at the top of his lungs while his heart just died and his entire system screamed and twirled inside him. “What’s the fucking problem with you!?”

Yet again, Loqi only giggled, hanging from him like a koala, entirely amused by the whole situation. Then, without a word, he started using Cor to climb up, like a cat on a tree. Despite Cor’s complaints, Loqi kept going up until he got a hold of the trapeze with his own hands too, face-to-face and pressed against Cor. At the proximity, Cor gave him a scared, angry look. Loqi replied with a smile. Without warning him, Loqi closed the distance between them just enough so Cor could feel his breath on his own face. Turning a little red, all that he could do was look away so his face was away of Loqi’s reach.

Loqi just laughed lowly to himself. Then, he started climbing up again. This time he used Cor’s chest and shoulder, and by an inch he missed using Cor’s face, to put his foot on for support, going until he stood on his feet on the trapeze, holding to the ropes.   
“We’re both too heavy for only one, Marshal!” Loqi exclaimed happily from the spot. Cor looked upwards at him, eyes wide and mouth open, with disbelief. Loqi gave him a wide smile. “Bye bye!” 

Cor was so shocked at the idea of Loqi trying for real to murder him that he couldn’t even yell anything. All he felt was Loqi’s feet stepping on his hands, and so they, by reflex out of the pain, let go of the trapeze.  
Cor didn’t even yell as he fell the couple, deathly meters to the ground, shocked as he was, unable to finish proessing that that was how he died.  
A few meters before hitting the ground, he felt himself land on a net that sunk at a safe distance from the actual floor, and he was shot upwards again. 

Having fallen fast, and shooting up just as fast, he couldn’t process anything and just yelped in surprise, his organs shrinking and his nerves all shaking, barely understanding anything when he was caught midair. By one leg.   
Hanging upside-down, Cor swung at quite a speed forth and back on the flying trapeze held only from one leg while the other and the rest of his body flailed around. When he managed to look up a little, he found Loqi holding to the trapeze with the back of the knees, holding his ankle with both hands, and laughing. Not standing the position of looking up for too long, Cor dropped again, watching what he was starting to assume was the practice room of the trapeze artists upside-down and forth and back, getting dizzy quickly. 

Before he had finished processing anything again, Loqi let go of his leg. Cor knew there was a net this time, even if the color of the floor and hence invisible to his eye, but he still couldn’t help it when his heart once more stopped as he fell down, breathless. Once more, the net caught him and shot him upwards like a cannon ball. Loqi missed him once, but when Cor bounced back up again, Loqi caught him by the legs, both of them this time. He seemed to struggle at first with holding the weight, as Cor was much bigger and way heavier than him, but he managed to not drop him.  
“Hold to the trapeze, Cor!” he heard DeMasque yell. Cor looked up at times when he swung to the middle of the room and saw that, somehow, Loqi had gotten his trapeze to go again, alone. “Hold it!”

Only because he felt Loqi let go of his legs, Cor stretched the hands and took a hold of his trapeze again. He swung forwards and he wasn’t sure how to turn around, but, yet again without giving him time to think anything, Loqi yelled again.  
“And now catch me again!”

Almost with no warning, Loqi crashed against him again, this time against his back, holding to him and once more making the trapeze lose balance and not go in a straight line. Cor tried shoving him off himself, and Loqi dropped, holding at the last second to Cor’s leg, but making him lose even more balance. Cor tried kicking him off, and both struggled with each other until, finally, Loqi pulled from him hard enough to make Cor drop with him, both of them falling towards the net.   
Both bounced off it a couple times, softening each time more, until finally they only laid on the net, no bounce anymore.

Cor laid on it completely still. He didn’t try getting up, or rolled, or moved the head. A hand on his tummy, the other next to his head, the head slightly thrown back, Cor stayed there as if unable to move the slightest and like his soul had abandoned his body. 

A moment later, he felt movement on the net close to him and coming closer. Soon, Loqi appeared next to him, crawling on the net, and dropping next to him, on his side, smiling. He gently laid a hand on Cor’s chest and caressed it oh so very gently, holding the weight of his head in his other hand. Cor didn’t react to any of that. He still laid there, breathing a little heavily, eyes wide and gaze lost on the ceiling while Loqi’s hand stroked his chest as if pampering him.   
“…the fuck?” Cor breathed out finally after a while, eyes still wide and lost. Loqi laughed lowly.

A moment later, Loqi moved up. He put his hands on Cor’s tummy, and straddled him. He sat on Cor’s crotch and for a moment he stayed there. The Marshal tried looking at him, still breathless, but he just shook the head and looked away, like not having time for this. With a giggle, Loqi leaned forwards, hands on Cor’s chest, so he could press a little kiss to his chin.  
“Oh, come on” he whispered to the very much shocked cop. “You did great.”

Saying no more, Loqi rolled off him and calmly stood up, walking away until reaching the edge of the net. When he dropped off it to the actual floor, he made sure to put some of the pads there so that if the Marshal needed to roll off the net instead of jump off it, his face would land in something soft.

Even dizzier than in a beginning, Cor could only groan long and low, and he stayed in the same pose for at least the next fifteen minutes.

“I lost sight of him, report now” Cor radioed in a hurry as he stopped in front of the mall’s waterfall. The police were spread all across the shopping center so it was going to be very absurd, and he was going to be very upset, if he got no news of spotting a clown in flashy costume in the next two minutes. Thankfully, a minute later, his radio came on.  
“Marshal, Chief, we’ve found him, he’s at the Amazi-Zone” an officer said through the radio. Cor stood in his spot quiet for a moment, frowning deep in confusion.   
“… _what?”_  
“It’s the playground on the third floor past the food section, Marshal” the officer informed. Cor still stood quiet for a moment.  
“…the playground.”  
“Yes, sir.”

Because why the fuck would he not be in the playground, of course, of fucking course.   
Trying to not lose his cool and very annoyed, Cor made his way to the Amazi-Zone as fast as he could, trying to keep an eye open in case he saw the sly bastard pass by in the opposite direction, because that was pretty common. Soon, he arrived at the doors of the big playground, where five officers waited, keeping an eye both on the door and the corridors because the Phantom Thief seemed to either make doors out of nowhere or cross walls like a real ghost.  
“He’s still inside?” Cor asked once there.   
“Yes, sir” an officer confirmed. “He’s at the Sharkie-Loop slide.”  
Cor tried not to blush in second hand embarrassment.   
What a case.

Hurrying inside, another officer that was inside caught up with him to report.  
“Marshal, we’ve got him cornered” she explained. “We’re waiting outside at all possible exits and there are officers inside, too.”  
“There’re officers inside the playground?”  
“Yes, sir. Why?”

Once more, Cor tried to hold back a blush of humiliating embarrassment and shook the head as if to dismiss it. The great, oh so glorious, so renowned Lucian Police Forces, shoved inside a kids’ playground chasing a tiny thief in thights. Fucking… _great,_ not embarrassing at all.  
“He got into the Sharkie-Loop slide but we can’t reach him; an officer is stuck at the Yip-Yip Corridor, two in the Tiger Roar slide, two are trying to open the entrance through Unicorn Horn Tunnel, and Rainbow Rocket is not functioning.”  
This time Cor couldn’t hold back the blush.  
“I can’t believe he’s pushed us to the point of getting into some fucking children playground” Cor muttered as he headed his way to the slides because _why the fuck not,_ everyone was inside anyway, there was no bit of dignity anyone could lose anymore. 

Cor made sure to take off his shoes before going in because _why the fuck wouldn’t he,_ eh, eh!?

Cor crawled through the kid playground’s colorful tunnels with all the seriousness of the high ranked officer in the middle of an urgent mission that he was. There he went, the almost two meters tall buff cop, severe look upon his face, concentration on point, through the pit of colorful balls with chocobo, moogle, and cactuar stickers on them. With help from the radio, he got instructions of which ways were blocked, and added to his knowledge which was Choco Slide and what way was near Kupo Tower, as to make his way to DeMasque’s current hideout.

After having to crawl through the plastic tunnels, open his path through the wild forest of hanging sacks, and climbing the inflatable mountains, Cor managed his way to one of the highest slides.   
While crawling through the plastic tunnel where he barely fit, he heard noises; something against plastic, then chewing. He was not even impressed. He kept going until finally getting a look of the beginning of the slide.   
DeMasque sat there, feet resting on the wall of the slide, his back on the other side, and he was eating candies from a little container. 

Cor stayed still for a moment and pouted, a little annoyed but really not surprise. Some seconds later, Loqi finally became aware of his presence. He turned to look at him and stayed still for a bit. Then, not breaking eye contact, he took out more candies and put them in his mouth. Cor sighed and started crawling towards him. With a little laugh, Loqi gave him a smile and turned, and then dropped backwards, letting himself go down the slide. Cor stopped at the entrance of the plastic slide and analyzed it, then turned around with some struggles; he didn’t fit there and he was not going to fall in DeMasque’s trap to get him stuck on purpose.  
“He went down Sharkie Poop Slide, I repeat-”  
“It’s Sharkie Loop, Marshal.”  
“He went down the fucking blue slide, somebody go get him!” Cor radioed angrily, then let go of his speaker and crawled as fast as he could all the way back. 

The chase went on across the big indoors playground. Cor managed to stumble upon Loqi again, who carried the sack with his hands and kept his candy box in his mouth. When Cor spotted him and yelled ‘Hey’, Loqi turned to look at him as if though a startled cat, then dashed away. Cor, as always, followed fast as he could.   
Loqi made sure to swing all the hanging sacks when he passed through them as to make the path harder for Cor. DeMasque went down an open, wide slide, and Cor took the slide next to it to try and go faster, but couldn’t make it. Loqi went through a pair of ‘squeezers’ set for kids to pass between them. Even if small, Loqi was still a grown man, so midways through it he got stuck. Coming behind him, Cor stopped for a second when all he saw was the round, firm butt stuck there, and the legs struggling a little. Almost catching up to grab him by the leg, though, Loqi managed to pass through the whole thing, and laughed, clearly aware that Cor was not going to fit, and hence he would need to go back again and find a longer way.

After catching up with him again, both ran across the roller corridor, in which not even Loqi himself got free from some stumbling and nearly falling down.   
“You get back here, tiny scoundrel” Cor muttered angrily while trying to catch up with him going up a rope of an hill. He watched Loqi from underneath get to the top, cling to it, and use the feet to push the rest of his body past the top. He tried hurrying and got to the corridor with hanging sacks as well, which Loqi was all messing up again to confuse him.   
“Why aren’t you tired yet, Marshal!?” he heard from the other end of the corridor, then a subtle laugh.   
“I won’t ever tire until I catch you!”  
“Well, then your moniker will be very useful, won’t it?”

Cor growled under his breath and kept going through the swinging sacks. He could only see DeMasque in a blurry sight among them, but he kept him in view in the straight corridor, until he disappeared to a side, which motivated Cor to speed up.  
Then, just as he put aside the last sack, and before he stopped hurrying, DeMasque, hiding behind a wall, put his foot in his way, making Cor stumble forwards. For a moment Cor thought it wasn’t going to be very useful, as he would just need to stand back up.  
The thing was, he fell straight into the Spider Tower, or the net trampolines.   
And down he went, non stop. 

Unable to hold to the elastic bands and having fallen headfirst into the pit, instead of getting stuck in the first or second row, Cor kept going down, bouncing off the bands and down level after level. Not having expected it himself, Loqi let out a little yelp of surprise at first, then stayed still as he watched Cor go down like a damn rag doll, and then he couldn’t help it; Loqi burst out into laughter, exploded in it, a hand going up to smack his own forehead and a hand going to his tummy. He laughed and laughed until bending in two from the effort. His laugh echoed through the net tower and through the corridors. With some effort and stopping every two steps to keep laughing, Loqi tried hurrying to the nearest slide. 

After struggling with being unable to stop laughing and finding his way through the playground, Loqi made it to what was supposed to be the lowest level of the Spider Tower. However, when he got there, he didn’t find Cor standing there waiting for him.   
Because Cor, bless him, got stuck about two meters from the padded floor.   
Needless to say, Loqi couldn’t help but burst out laughing again. He tried containing it, snorted, then ended up giving in and laughing his ass off, he just…burst into hysterical laughter, it was absurd, like he had heard the funniest joke he would ever hear in his life. Cor, who hung upside-down in the playground tower tangled in the spandex bands, rolled the eyes, closed them, and internally begged the Astrals for either mercy or instant death, please. 

Loqi tried getting close despite the laugh, but he was laughing so much he ended up losing balance, crashing into a wall, and dropping on the pads, rolling to be tummy-up, and continued laughing. Cor, from his spot, couldn’t see him but he could very well hear him. He stayed there, hanging, unfazed, and already too dead inside to even try to untangle himself or get angry at all.   
After a while just hearing Loqi laugh, then try to calm down, switching between laughing and staying quiet, he finally managed to calm down. He still took some moments lying there in peace before he pushed himself back up on his feet and approached the net trampolines. 

He got inside and looked up to analyze the situation. It seemed that some of the bands had broken due to Cor’s size and weight, and some, both the broken and the ones still in good conditions, had tangled around his limbs, getting him stuck and immobilized, hanging there. Loqi still chuckled a little while staring at the mess, and then got close once more, climbing one of the levels and getting close, until he was standing inches from Cor, except, because the cop was upside-down, the only parts that were close were their faces.

For a long while, Loqi only smiled and stared at him, mocking and trying to not burst out laughing again. Cor stared back, not reacting in the slightest. He looked so dead inside that Loqi couldn’t help another little chuckle that made him force himself to keep it cool once more.   
“So! Marshal!”  
“Please just leave me alone.”

Loqi laughed again. After his laugh faded, he got a little ccloser, and moved his hands up. Cor watched carefully as Loqi’s hands went to his face. He offered no resistance when Loqi cupped his cheeks oh very gently and got closer. He kept the eyes open, stared at Loqi’s mouth, then tried to keep them on his eyes. Loqi gave him a little smile, before getting closer until Cor couldn’t see his eyes anymore. Slowly, widely, in a big movement, Loqi kissed him; using all his mouth, he kissed Cor’s lips, tip of the tongue poking Cor’s for a bit, and the kiss finished by catching his lower lip. The very slow way he did it and the way his mouth moved had seemed as if though he was going to go on, like it was the beginning; however, after that single kiss, Loqi pulled away just ever as slowly. Cor didn’t follow him for more, but he also didn’t tense in his spot or offered resistance.

Loqi licked his lower lip and then took it in to bite down on it, smiling widely and looking at Cor with eager eyes. Cor stared back, unfazed. Loqi still kept eye contact as if waiting for a reaction or some word that never came. He chuckled and then let go of Cor’s face.  
“Alright” he whispered, smile wide and eyes sparkly. “Better luck next time, dear Marshal.”

And so, Loqi got off the nets, looked around to see if there weren’t any nearby officers, and quietly dashed away as if though he had light feet that made no noise. 

Cor stayed there, still not even trying to untangle himself. He sucked his lower lip in and bit down on it for a while, and he released his breath a little shakily. 

And so, after having nearly caught him for the millionth time, DeMasque ran away for a millionth and one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you can imagine better what Cor falling through the net trampolines looked like: [Have this video.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L7PQWvcEz5s)


	8. A Thief's Hips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Link to he remix I stumbled upon while writing this fic and that forced me to write the first part of this chapter](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBQrDoTirRo) goD DAS mi t
> 
> \--
> 
> -

The police Chief paced through his workplace casually, waving hello at whoever greeted him in the way. 

Clarus stopped when he reached the door he had been looking for. ‘Cor Leonis – Marshal’, it read. The Chief couldn’t help but smile a little and sigh, eyebrows the slightest furrowed. He shook the head a little and took a sip from his coffee before he got closer to the door and went inside. 

Cor sat at his desk, watching his laptop, with earphones in. Despite it being obvious he was aware of someone at his door, he didn’t even glance that way. By the annoyed, frustrated, yet somehow still completely dead look on his face, it wasn’t too hard to imagine what he was doing. Mostly because, well, when was he not obsessing over the same thing? With a subtle chuckle, Clarus smiled more and shook the head a little, and then he got closer. He stood in front of Cor’s desk for a while, but the Marshal seemed very into whatever he was watching, even with that unimpressed look on his face. He looked as if though he had long ago died on the inside, and Clarus couldn’t help but find it a little amusing, as much as he sympathized. 

Some moments later, Cor looked up at him, raising the eyebrows. Clarus gave him a questioning yet casual look. Cor took off one of his earphones.  
“He’s now a pop idol” he said simply. Clarus’ eyebrows twitched and he stood still not understanding. So, Clarus rounded the desk to get next to him, bending to get a closer look of the computer’s screen, and he put an earphone on. Cor refreshed the page to restart the video. 

When the video loaded, Cor put it on full screen. Soon, some pop-electro like music started sounding in the earphones, and a music video started.  
“Oh, my” Clarus couldn’t help but say it, and he had to grin to not chuckle; the characteristic DeMasque smiley face appeared in the screen changing colors according to the music, and a series of DeMasque-themed things followed. 

Clarus recognized the music when the beat eased and the melody, as a digital accordion, started, going up building tension; it was DeMasque’s music theme, yet another cover, he guessed. At first, Clarus thought it was only another fan-made music video as there were plenty with only the colorful emblem, if anything this one with a more high-quality look.  
But then, when the music went up, paused, and then the beat dropped, the one and only, the real Mask DeMasque appeared on screen.  
And he started dancing to the music.

Clarus couldn’t help but furrow the eyebrows, murmur ‘what?’, and then he burst out laughing. Cor pouted, watching the video go on.  
“What!?” Clarus repeated, more amused than surprised, as he focused again in the video. The video switched from DeMasque-related images or things to the Phantom Thief’s dance. DeMasque was in full costume, and seemed to know very well what he was doing; he was in a little empty room, and his hands, feet, and whole body went according to the music, like one of those, as Cor said, so famous pop idols that were trending. 

Interrupting the dance but suiting the music video just as perfectly, bits of videos of his chases came on screen. DeMasque jumping from a roof to the other, running, holding to some ledge and waving hello (or goodbye) with his hat. And so the video went on; Phantom Thief dancing, a video of his mischief, maybe some animation to work only as transition or better visual effects (for example, completing a jump that wasn’t fully caught on camera). 

Instead of being unimpressed and annoyed as he had wanted from Clarus, the Chief was already moving the head and shoulders to the music. Cor could only pout more and more with each beat that Clarus danced to.  
“It’s you!” Clarus said as if though a mom seeing their kid in the local newspaper, pointing at the screen (in case Cor wasn’t aware of where he meant) when a bit of the video showed one of DeMasque’s chases, with Cor nearly tackling him, but failing in the last second. While still dancing in his spot, Clarus turned to give Cor a grin. Cor looked at him too, but he just frowned. Not moved by the angry look, Clarus looked again at the screen and kept dancing. 

Sometimes, in a similar but not quite the same room, there were three Mask DeMasques dancing the same choreography in a triangular formation. However, they didn’t quite share the real DeMasque’s physical complexion, and, as if to make it clear that they weren’t the real one, they wore different colors; instead of the flashy green, one wore purple, the other red, and a last one blue. The video switched to DeMasque’s mischief at the crime scene during beat without melody, to dancing in the melody from either the real one or the cosplayers, and to the real one mostly when the beat dropped in a particular emphasis. 

“Completely absurd” Cor muttered.  
“It’s got a nice vibe” Clarus said as if completely ignoring him, head still moving. “Nice choreography, you’ve got to give him that.”

Cor just pouted, crossing his arms and refusing to make any comment. The screen flashed the smiley face and another clip of the time DeMasque had humble fireworks coming from his hands. Cor nearly burnt himself that time thinking it was just a light show for distraction.

The beat went down suddenly, keeping only the melody that went back to the start of his main theme, this time on a digital violin, going up, and making that famous pause; then, it changed to the more pop-flamenco-like bit of the orchestral version they tended to play during his antics.

When it did, the real DeMasque appeared on screen, just to show off his eyes, opening an dlooking at the camera. Building up tension, and going with the more romantic style of the music, with violin and castanets, and that pizzicato in the background that gave it its charming, playful tone, there were close-ups in slow motion of the Phantom Thief. They showed his legs, then. Cor’s pout softened when they showed the red boots, up to the knee, covering those beautifully shaped legs; he subtly looked at Clarus while a different clip played, and looked at it again when there was another shot this time only of his torso, which showed him apparently sat on some extravagant, expensive looking chair.

And then, his mouth. The unique shape of the lips, that went up in a pair of arches. Cor was sure he could see the soft texture even in this stupid video just as he saw them in real life. In slow motion, DeMasque smiled, and then he put a rose to his teeth, biting gently down on it. Cliché, Cor tried to tell himself in an attempt to tag it of stupid, but he just tightened his crossed arms and turned a little red. As a last shot, they showed DeMasque sat on a chair like a spoiled prince on a throne, on a three-quarters view, and where the camera had taken all the close-up shots.

Then, the beat dropped again but rhythmically, switching to DeMasque standing again for a solo choreography; the music was the melody and only the strong beats; on each of them, DeMasque moved in quick, firm movements, secure, moving along the music in perfect synchrony. He made some of the cliché flamenco moves but suiting them to the mostly pop sensation. After half the movements, he looked elsewhere; half of them, however, he looked straight to the camera with those eyes, those stupid, blazing eyes that were so…expressive. It almost felt like he was staring at him; it was nearly, almost the same look Loqi gave him every time he provoked Cor, provoked not with laughs or pranks but with…kisses and caresses. Eyes that seemed to say ‘Come here, to me’. Eyes that looked straight at the camera. Straight at Cor, again, even when Loqi wasn’t there. 

Cor crossed the legs and his arms tightened again. The melody was about to finish the main phrase, finally. But, along the last notes of the accordion, DeMasque made one of those dance moves where his torso seemed to wave, hips circling neither too fast nor too slow, and hands either gesturing or travelling through his own body, not as provocation, just as mere dance, but- where Clarus was seeing a pop-idol like movement, Cor couldn’t help but look at the whole thing in a different light that made him frown and glare. And so, as he seemed to switch to the main choreography again, the beat dropped for real this time and the clip switched from DeMasque to the three cosplayers in perfect synchrony, and the video continued switching between the dancers, the lone dancer, and the clips from the crime scenes.

Needless to say, Clarus was still dancing in his spot, this time more enthusiastic. Cor looked at him and rolled the eyes, groaning and shaking the head, but his friend ignored him to start moving the arms as well, already too into it. And so, a couple moments later, the music started going to a conclusion: in quick, few seconds, there was a clip of DeMasque running through a roof with Cor chasing behind, DeMasque dancing, Cor throwing himself to tackle him, the three dancers, DeMasque jumping off the roof, and the last few seconds was DeMasque in his dancing room grabbing his sack, tossing it to his shoulder, standing in a dramatic pose sideways with a foot in front of the other and the legs lightly bent as if ready to run, giving his back-side to the camera but looking above his shoulder enough to face it. He stayed still for a moment as if noticing the viewer just now as he was leaving. 

DeMasque moved a hand up to hold the tip of his hat, and then, choreographed with the music, he took it off in a large, quick movement, swung it as if to wave it to say goodbye, and disappeared behind it. In what was obviously a work of the camera and the editors, Cor liked to believe, and if anyone dared say he made real magic then thank you get out of his office.  
“Wooh” Clarus cheered, grinning, and then laughed a little. Cor just pouted a bit more. “That was nice” and when he waited but got no reply, he looked at Cor and pushed him slightly. “Come on, that’s really cool!”  
“I really don’t know which side you’re on, Clarus” Cor sighed, shaking the head and receiving his earphone back from the Chief, who chuckled a bit.  
“How many…? Oh Astrals, it’s got two million views already!” Clarus pointed out, then laughed. “When was it uploaded?”  
“…yesterday” Cor muttered.  
“Well, that’s one very, _very_ impressive fan work, eh?” Clarus said, standing back up straight and nodded, smiling widely as if proud. “How did they get him to do that, anyway? Is that the real him? Like, the real-real?”  
“Yeah” Cor sighed, dropping against his chair. “A month ago this group of kids uploaded a video aimed at DeMasque explaining that they had made a remix and were making a video and would love it if he participated, saying they understood if he didn’t want to give away his identity even if they promised it was safe with them, and so there’s an hour-long tutorial of the whole choreography ‘so you can learn it at home on your own, mister DeMasque’.”

Clarus laughed a little again at Cor’s high-pitched impression.  
“But I didn’t think he’d do it!” Cor complained, pointing at the screen with an open palm. “Look at that! It’s absolutely absurd!”  
“I think it’s pretty neat.”  
“What kind of society do we live in” Cor started complaining, and Clarus could only roll his eyes with a smile, “that not only we cheer for a thief, but he’s also in music videos, dancing like a pop star, instead of being in jail where he belongs!?”  
“I think it’s a society that likes shows and flashy costumes” Clarus replied calmly. “The same that it’s been since way before DeMasque existed.” 

Cor replied only with a low, long groan in his throat, like a dog whining when throwing a tantrum. Clarus laughed and patted his back.  
“Take it easy, man” he said, but of course Cor didn’t listen.  
“Next to inspect are those guys” Cor stated. “I know they didn’t interact with DeMasque but from some computer, net connection, or in some mail they received the clip Loqi filmed himself.”

Clarus sighed loudly and patted Cor’s shoulder again. Then, the Chief started heading back to the door.  
“You keep ignoring my petitions to rest, Cor, fantastic job” he said and put a thumb up. Cor pouted in response. Then, just as he thought Clarus was going to exit, he stopped at the doorframe and stood still some seconds. Cor tensed a little in his seat, thinking Clarus had remembered something important, or that he was going to give him some bad news, something. Clarus turned to look at him again. “How do I find that song?”

If Cor hadn’t died on the inside months ago, he would have tossed some paper ball at Clarus.  
“…it’s on trending right now on both KupoTube and Musify, there’s no missing it…”  
“Alright!” Clarus said a bit too cheerfully. “Have a good day, Cor, and even though you don’t need the reminder, here’s a reminder that you have an appointment with DeMasque’s recent calling card next Thursday.”

Cor didn’t reply. He watched Clarus exit, and even though the Chief tried to do it subtly, Cor still caught the sound of him humming under his breath the stupid tune of the song before closing the door.

Once left alone, Cor put the video on again, and skipped to the bit with the solo choreography. He’s a good dancer and you have to give him that, Clarus had said, and Cor didn’t deny it. He watched Loqi attentively for a while, as if though the dance had a secret he had to decipher. 

Loqi moved really nice. Maybe not a professional dancer, but he was confident in the way he moved, and he moved really good.  
Particularly the hips. He moved the hips really, _really_ nicely. 

\--

The cuffs clicked when they closed in their place.

Cor sighed in a mix between slight desperation and complete resignation, not even trying to pull his hands off the railing behind himself. He sat against the wall with metal bars resigned to being unable to move and knowing he didn’t stand a chance. 

The noise of any police cars had stayed many, many blocks behind. The drones, too, had lost sight of thief and officer and had stopped following a long while ago. The rooftop was as quiet and dark as any other, no particular light from the show and no noises of cheering fans or anything, as if though it was a normal thief chase with no major spectacle. It was always a little weird, facing Loqi without his music, his lights, or his fans or anything extravagant, but it wasn’t rare. It was so stupidly usual to chase him this far away of his ‘stage’. 

Cor tried pulling once in vain, but, just as expected, the metal bars behind him didn’t give in, and the cuffs on his wrists didn’t open. He sighed in defeat and let his head back, resting it on the wall.  
Loqi stood in front of him. Regal, elegant, graceful as always. Full of that iconic sass that got exponentially greater when he was in costume. When Cor turned to look at him, he first found the legs that looked longer when in those large red boots and the tight pants, then up to find his face. Loqi took off his mask now that Cor had no way to catch him and now that no one else was looking, and he gently set it aside with his bounty sack, only to return to his spot in front of Cor and smile down at him. Cor looked at him for a moment, but soon sighed and looked away, shaking the head. 

Well. That was it. Another night of heist and chase and no success for Cor. He just sighed and assumed the night ended here for him, both hands cuffed at the sides of his head and Loqi, like always, walking free.

Except the thief stayed there for a bit. At first, the Phantom Thief had considered leaving, but he continued staring for a while, until he was clearly staring on purpose and stayed there, in front of Cor. Cor kept looking away not minding him, but DeMasque took longer in his spot, a meter away, looking down on him. Cor gave a subtle glance his way. Loqi had crossed the arms and looked him up and down as if though examining him. Then, he put a finger to one of his cheeks, and tilted the head to a side, like a curious bird not comprehending what he was seeing. Cor stared back some moments, tensing for some reason, but tried to shrug it off and looked away again. 

Slowly, Loqi smiled.  
“Ah…yes” he said as if musing, taking his face off his finger and nodding to himself. Cor pouted and looked up at him again, frowning. “Pardon me for staring, dear Marshal. I was looking at you and you reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on whom exactly…”

Cor kept the head slightly down, frowning and not going to reply.  
Then, unexpectedly, Loqi started getting closer to him. Cor looked up to see his feet step his way, and he tensed.  
“But now I remember.”

And Loqi kept going. Cor pulled the legs an inch back and froze, even more tense than before, and he finally looked up at the proximity Loqi was taking.  
Suddenly, Loqi put his feet at each side of Cor’s thighs. Cor watched the legs with surprise, and looked up quickly, eyes wide and mouth open.  
Without some way to avoid it, Loqi went down calmly, until he sat on Cor’s lap, straddling him. Cor tried frowning, but he couldn’t help the look between surprise and fear with Loqi so close to him, and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything either. 

Despite Cor being so tense he nearly exploded and with the heart racing so fast it nearly stopped, Loqi sat on him calm and patient, looking at him with all the time of the world. The Phantom Thief stared around Cor’s body, gaze slowly moving from the neck to his chest, the arms, and the cuffed wrists. He gazed intensely, so intensely that Cor could feel his gaze on him, burning, the heat increasing in the spots where Loqi’s blue gaze landed on. He got goosebumps that went along Loqi’s gaze, and, at some point, Cor closed the eyes when the stare got so intense on his chest that he felt like being touched all over.  
“Ah, yes, I do” Loqi murmured. Then, he gracefully lifted a hand, and he laid a couple fingertips on Cor’s chest. The Marshal tensed even more and a little noise sounded in his throat, like a little whimper. Loqi’s eyes went up to find Cor’s, but the Marshal didn’t look his way, face burning red.  
“I’d…rather you don’t touch me, thank you” Cor finally said when he felt Loqi’s fingers move down along the shape of his pectorals, trying to sound bitter. 

Loqi laughed lowly for a bit, as if genuinely amused, and his fingertips traveled to Cor’s shoulder, neither too slow nor too fast. He laid his gaze on the spots where he caressed Cor’s body, and for a moment he forgot about the teasing on purpose to really watch him. That night, Cor wore the short sleeved uniform, and the shirt looked…a little tight on him. Not like it didn’t fit him, but because…he was quite a shape. His pectorals took the spotlight really easily under the shirt. And his hands, forced to stay up at the sides of his head due to being cuffed, gave him a clear sight of his arms. Strong, big, sturdy, like a set of boulders. They could go relatively unseen in the long sleeved version, but right now they seemed too outstanding to not look at. 

When Loqi’s fingertips moved from the sleeve to the skin, Cor made anther involuntary noise, tensed, and looked away, closing the eyes tightly as if he was about to be bitten by a furious beast. At the contact, his arm tensed as well, making the muscle tighten and grow, and made a little vein pop out.  
“Oh…” Loqi breathed out when he saw the whole thing, and watched the little vein with interest, as if it was a first time seeing one. He slowly, very carefully laid his fingertips on it, and he heard Cor make another tiny noise as he moved underneath him, tense. A while into staring, Loqi started smiling again, slowly. Finally, he took in a breath and looked away, turning to face Cor; when he did, their faces ended inches apart, and Loqi got even closer so his lips could ghost against Cor’s face. The Marshal was still looking away, eyes closed, and not breathing. “Don’t you want to know who you reminded me of?”

Cor didn’t reply. He wanted to say no, he wanted to say a lot of things and beg Loqi to get off him, but he couldn’t say anything. He feared he would open his mouth and anything else would come out. However, despite his silence, Loqi still went on. He got away enough and laid both palms on Cor’s chest.  
“I once met a guy, thirty something, in a club” he said lowly, smiling, as his hands slowly caressed Cor’s chest. The Marshal’s face became redder, but he opened the eyes, if looking elsewhere. “Physically speaking, he was just like you…”

And so, Loqi looked down at his body again and continued caressing it slowly, taking his time, and being very soft, sometimes only ghosting Cor’s body with his hands. After a bit watching him, Loqi smiled and bit his lip.  
“You wanna know what I did to that guy?”  
Cor refused again to say anything at all, not even to reject him or to insult him. He finally opened the mouth to take in a little, shaky breath, dropping the head, embarrassed and with the cheeks still a little colored. 

Without taking an answer, Loqi got even closer, pressing his body entirely against Cor’s, and placing his mouth to Cor’s ear, making Cor’s chin rest at his shoulder and, hence, giving him a clear opening to his neck if he so wanted.  
In a breath, Loqi started whispering in his ear.  
“I rode the fuck out of him” he whispered slow and dirty in Cor’s ear. A few seconds later, he heard Cor release a subtle, tense breath. “I rode him like a gods damn savage.”  
And, unexpectedly, Loqi rocked his hips. He moved them forwards and pulled back in a smooth, circular movement, as to rub his crotch against Cor’s. This time, Cor had to bite down on his lip and close the eyes to focus on his self control.  
“I rode him until he came” Loqi continued whispering, and so he moved the hips in a larger movement. “I rode him _while_ he came” and he continued humping, rubbing, hips moving smoothly. “And I kept riding him even _after_ he came…”

And he kept going for a bit. He moved his hands up to hug Cor by the neck, as if to hold softly onto him, hugging him, while he continued moving the hips, slow but firmly against Cor, completely shameless. Cor kept the eyes shut tight and the head thrown back, resisting. His hands held to the cuffs tightly, as tightly as he could. He tried pulling his hands off their restraints, but when he couldn’t, he let out a shaky breath and a bolt went down his spine, making him shiver against Loqi. The blond chuckled softly in response and only seemed more motivated, going slower but pressing their crotches a little harder as his hips swayed. 

Cor frowned. It made him angry. So many things made him angry, so many, but what frustrated him the most was the idea of Loqi taking him as a dummy while imagining someone _else_. He wanted to get rid of him and give him what he deserved, but he couldn’t bring himself to yell. He held to the cuffs as tightly as he could, toes curled back in his shoes, and breath hitching. After a lot of effort, Cor tried his best.  
“Loqi- no…” he muttered, shivering a little again, and failing at sounding firm and loud and severe as he had intended, coming out as hesitant. 

It was disappointing when Loqi obeyed. He never did, and now that he did, Cor almost yelled at him for listening so easily. Loqi stopped humping against him, and a bit later he broke apart from the hug, putting his hands again on Cor’s chest as if to put the barrier between them there. He made eye contact with Cor and smiled. Cor glared back, breath heavy but trying to keep it still by forcing his mouth shut. A moment into it, however, as hard as Cor tried to keep eye contact, he panicked by the obvious and looked away, blushing, but frowning even more. He didn’t dare say anything more. Amused by his reactions, Loqi smiled more and continued staring intense enough that Cor could feel his gaze. 

“Alright” Loqi said with a little sigh. However, he didn’t get away immediately. His hands slid down a little across Cor’s chest, causing immediate reactions; Cor shivered involuntarily, and Loqi could feel his muscles and skin shrink under his fingertips, but he also panicked a little.  
“No- Loqi-” Cor whispered, but it was too late. As he was saying it, Loqi dropped the head and stared shamelessly. Cor stopped breathing, not even hiding the concern and embarrassment, face burning so bright he was sure he had to look painted red. It only became worse when Loqi giggled lowly.  
“Oh my, oh Marshal…” he whispered. With that, Loqi put his hands away and pulled only back enough to have a clearer view. 

There, in Cor’s pants, a bulge.  
When Loqi laughed lowly again, Cor closed the eyes and breathed shakily. He rested his head back against the wall and whispered a curse. Loqi, on his side, continued staring between amused and genuinely entertained. It took a while before he said anything else.  
“You’re lusting after your own charge” Loqi said in that voice that sounded like a human purr. He looked back up to Cor’s eyes, finding him staring. Cor managed to hold eye contact for a bit, if struggling with not looking away. Loqi bit down on his lower lip, smiling. He let go with a little movement of the tongue. “That’s so sad.”

Cor still held eye contact for a moment. A while into Loqi’s lustful but mocking gaze, Cor let out a little breath and finally rolled the eyes like he did every time, shaking the head a little. Loqi stared a little more before laughing.  
“Alright, then” Loqi said. Cor looked back at him with slight confusion, for a moment not sure he understood well. “I’d help you with that, but earlier you said you’d rather I don’t touch you, so…” 

Cor couldn’t help but give him a look as if asking him if he was serious, upset. Loqi gave him a smile and a shrug.  
“I may be a bad guy but I’m not a molester” he said. “So if you excuse me...”  
Loqi moved a hand up. He cupped Cor’s chin and he used his thumb to caress Cor’s lower lip from a side to the other end, toying a little with it, and then letting go. 

Suddenly, he moved as if ready to stand back up. By reflex, Cor tensed, but kept still when Loqi stayed in his spot.  
“Oh, just one last thing…” Loqi murmured as if he had suddenly forgotten something. He moved up for a moment, but instead of going away, he just turned around, still stradding Cor’s thighs, took his hat off, and then he moved back down. Cor held the breath and tensed just like while Loqi was humping him when, this time, the Phantom Thief sat on the bulge of his pants, not too hard to discomfort him, but enough to be felt. Cor kept the eyes shut tight and pressed his jaw so hard he feared to break his own teeth against each other, fighting against it all; Loqi’s back against him, his hair an inch from his face, his smell sweet like roses, and his ass on his erection through his pants. 

Suddenly, he heard Loqi purr out a hum along a quiet ‘Yes’, like he was tasting something to rate it. Cor let out a heavy breath that he immediately tried to hold back, and one of Loqi’s hands moved up to the back of Cor’s head. Holding to the cuffs so tightly his wrists and fingers started hurting, Cor put the head back, tense and legs moving up from the effort of restraint. Loqi, now sat on him, rocked the hips in a circle, slow and pressing firm against him. Cor tried to hold it back, he really did, but he breathed out a little curse. His erection twitched in his pants, and a second later Loqi was laughing in a breath; not knowing whether it was coincidence or if he noticed and was laughing at him made Cor angrier. 

Almost a bit too suddenly, Loqi stopped. He stayed still on his spot, smiling while biting his lip, eyes closed. He took his hand away of Cor, and looked over his shoulder back enough.  
“…you’re nice” Loqi whispered against Cor’s cheek, the voice tinted with a little hint of being genuinely satisfied. And just like that, Loqi stood up for real this time. Cor looked away when, now with Loqi giving him his back, standing up he had his butt right in his face, feeling a sting of anger. Loqi walked a few steps away and reached down for the spot where he had left his mask. He turned to look at Cor. “I’m sure you can get rid of your hard-on by yourself, sweetie” he said as he put his mask back on, securing it in place. Cor gave him an angry frown and a glare, legs moving a bit in their place. “And better luck next time. I’m _impatient.”_

Cor, for once, had no comeback. Which made him angrier. He continued frowning more and more, until he sighed angrily between clenched teeth, his teeth showing like an angry animal threatening to throw a bite. Loqi calmly put his hat back on, took his loot and tossed it above his shoulder, and he pulled the tip of his hat as a goodbye gesture. And just like that, he fled. 

Cor knew Loqi so he didn’t want to throw a tantrum in there in case he was still watching or hearing. He was not going to give him that amusement and pleasure, he was not going to let Loqi continue making fun of him and mocking him and enjoying with his frustration and humiliation. However, this time he felt a chaos within; his entrails were doing stupid things, his head was throbbing, and much to his anger, so was his cock. He didn’t even want to look down at it, it would just be a reminder, a stupid, fucking reminder of Loqi’s victory and humiliation on him. 

Cor couldn’t help but start making unintelligible noises, between wanting to roar out and giving his best at keeping it inside, and his feet kicked the air and floor a bit, throwing his tantrum but trying to keep it as quiet as possible. He pulled his hands away, but the cuffs pulled them back to the wall. He muttered a curse, another, and he kept whispering curses for entire two or three minutes before he, more or less, calmed down. Rather, became resigned.

He let himself rest back against the wall. He closed the eyes and tried taking deep breaths through the nose.  
Fantastic. Cor had thought that nothing could top the time Loqi left him cuffed by one hand with his own cuffs, but now it was both hands, one of which _again_ had his own pair of cuffs, and he was in such…state. He could activate his radio by voice command, that wasn’t the problem, he could radio Clarus to ask him to come free him…  
…but…the idea of Clarus finding him like that, not cuffed but…with a gods damn _erection_ in his pants…

Cor’s face started burning again. He tried to ignore it at first, but he had to drop the head and close the eyes once more, so embarrassed that he didn’t even need anyone seeing him to feel like dying. What was he supposed to say? ‘Hello Clarus, the thief I’ve told you for over two years that I hate sat on my dick and I sort of got aroused’?  
But the worst, worst part wasn’t the idea of Clarus finding him like that because the logical answer was to get rid of the erection before he arrived. But _that_ was the problem.  
Loqi cuffing both of his hands left Cor _helpless_ about his hard-on.  
He was too gone in the arousal to just…forget everything and have it cool down, but he also had no way to…get rid of it with the hands…  
So it had been on purpose, huh…?  
…how was Loqi so smart and so _cruel!?_

Cor couldn’t help but whimper in tantrum, kicking the floor a little more, and then just letting himself sit limp in his spot, not amused, cuffed, alone, and blue-balled.


	9. Calling Card

Even though people still stared, it wasn’t rare to see the Mayor hanging around the city like any other civilian.

In whatever clothes, not always in suits, in whatever places, not only offices. As mayor of Insomnia, Regis Lucis Caelum took his job as naturally as if it was any other one. When asked if he acted in such natural way to promote how he was equal to the citizens, Regis blinked, gave a genuinely naïve look at the interviewer, and said “is it not?”  
Some people thought he was being charming. Others, though, mostly the people that knew him personally, knew he was just like that. To Regis, he was no superior or inferior to anyone, and being mayor was not equal to being the most important person of the city. To him, his job was just one amongst others that made the city work, not The One. Whenever he forgot his card for instant access at the Citadel, he would literally go to the main counter and say ‘Hello, I work here but forgot my pass, can I come in? Do you need to see me ID?’ Genuinely naïve, the mayor’s innocence turned into charm for whoever heard or saw him.

And because being mayor was not the big thing to him, he hung out during free time and days like it was a stroll at the park…sometimes literally. Still, as used as people were to seeing him around the city in a baggy hoodie and not having had his beard groomed, they still couldn’t help but stare at times.   
Cor noticed. Clarus did, too. Regis was the only idiot that ate ice-cream and cookies oblivious to the social impact he had. 

Thankfully, it was rarely any troubles. People mostly stared and didn’t get close for whatever reason. That day, having breakfast all three friends together, they weren’t interrupted except for the once a waiter couldn’t help but ask Regis if he could take a picture of them together.  
“I don’t know, can you?”  
And Clarus was whining in cringe. 

The morning had been delightful and enjoyable. Regis and Clarus always made Cor enjoy of life like no one and nothing else could. Despite the years that had passed, Regis was still that adorable, idiot teen klutz that everyone thought would mature, and Clarus was still the idiot klutz that pretended he wasn’t, but at least had a bit more of common sense. The two together were always a show to admire, and Cor could always get good laughs out of just watching them. They were like a good, fresh pond after the exhausting daily walk through the desert called life.

“And I was like, no way, you can’t do that with a fork, you’re an idiot, it’s the shape of the spoon what makes it possible” Regis was saying while getting a spoonful of his ice-cream, shoving it into his mouth, and he kept going with both dessert and spoon in mouth, muffled. “’nd he was like, uh uh, I swear I can do it with a fork, ‘nd I was like, well, go ahead and try, and you know what happened?” he looked at Clarus, who, smiling, gave him a half-nod to encourage him to go on. Regis, however, just opened his eyes at him and insisted. “You know what happened?”  
“What happened?” Clarus asked aloud.   
“The idiot stabbed his eye” Regis stated, pulling the spoon out of his mouth and tasting the ice-cream. Clarus and Cor chuckled. “And I mean, of _course_ he would, you can’t put a fork to your face like that and expect to not get stabbed. It’s common sense!”

Clarus and Cor laughed. Regis continued calmly eating his ice-cream, being the only one left to finish breakfast. The cops didn’t urge him, knowing how easy he liked his lifestyle pace. Ten minutes later, Regis was putting spoons to his cheeks and the tip of his nose, and Clarus was just insulting him for being a dork and can you please not toy with these, Regis, they’re not yours.   
“What about you, Cor?” Regis asked after a bit of fighting with Clarus, who ended up rolling the eyes, smiling and pouting while putting the spoons back on the table. “DeMasque’s been quiet for a couple weeks. Isn’t that worrying?”  
“Yeah, well, I mean…” Cor started with a breath, eyebrows going up and eyes down while he moved in his seat, clearly taken off guard and getting a little tense, like he did every time the subject was brought up. “It is suspicious, but nothing that hasn’t happened before. I haven’t indulged into his current silence. Don’t want to obsess over it too much.”

Regis snorted. Clarus nudged him but he too couldn’t help a smile despite how hard he seemed to try. Cor pouted.  
“Why are you laughing? It’s literally what you two told me to do.”  
“That’s the thing” Clarus said. “We’ve told you to not obsess, and I’m happy you’re not obsessing over his current silence, but it’s a funny thing to say for someone that’s obsessed over DeMasque for like. Almost three years now.”  
“It’s not obsession” Cor rolled the eyes and shook the head. “It’s just…the right thing. You know? We have a criminal, we catch him. That’s literally our job.”  
“Well, I don’t know if we should tag him as criminal, like… _criminal”_ Regis charmed in. Cor gave him a look and raised the eyebrows, and Clarus sighed out loud, knowing how much Cor hated the controversy and discussion. “I mean, he does return everything he steals, and he doesn’t really hurt anyone in the process. So in the end, his biggest crime is just…breaking into other people’s buildings, that’s it. “  
“Yeah, well, that’s still a crime” Cor sighed. 

Clarus put Regis’ hand down when he tried to put the spoon back on his face.   
“I think it’s more like a theater play, but with magic” Regis said. “I wouldn’t mind if he robbed me.”

Clarus groaned out loud. The three stayed quiet, Cor and Regis looking at their friend, who was giving Regis a tired, annoyed look. Regis shrugged at him like asking what had happened.  
“Oh my _god,_ Regis, you did it” Clarus groaned, genuinely upset. Regis looked at him with big eyes for a couple seconds.  
“No, I didn’t!”  
“You just did it!”  
“Not true.”  
“You did-”  
“When?”  
“-just now!” 

Cor looked at one, then the other per turns, an eyebrow going slightly up. He tried reading them better, but the two friends just stared at each other, Clarus upset, and Regis like a child about to be caught and planning to run at the slightest scolding.   
“You know your luck, Regis” Clarus said firmly. “You know that when you summon any bad luck on you, you fucking get it.”  
“No, I don’t!”  
“Yes, you do!”  
“That doesn’t happen! The time with the behemoth was a coincidence!”  
“And now you summoned the one thief that no one in this universe can catch on you-!”  
“I only said I wouldn’t mind if he-!”  
“-and it’s going to give us an aneurysm just trying to-”  
“-robbed me because- no, stop, it’s not always like that-!”  
“-just like back when we went to Cleigne, I _told_ you to not-”  
“-and I thought- the time with the behemoth was coincidence! Coincidence!”  
“-and you still doubt about your powers of summoning horrible luck-!”  
“Noooo!”

Cor felt a sting inside and he looked down. The other two continued arguing with each other like older and little brothers, Regis sounding like nearly throwing a tantrum, but Cor didn’t mind them for once.  
…what if-?  
No. It was not going to happen.   
…but if it did…

“It’s not going to happen, no, shut up” Regis stated after a while of arguing, and so, Clarus eventually gave up with a sigh. The officer exhaled and looked as if resigned to this prison called life, and Regis just took more ice-cream into his spoon. There was a pause, and then he continued: “People always act like I’m some kind of king or something, so they keep me under tight vigilance. DeMasque can be daring, but he wouldn’t go all the way as to rob the mayor.”

Both officers looked at Regis for a while as he ate his dessert.   
Some seconds later, Regis looked up at them per turns with his big, naïve eyes, spoon in mouth.  
“…right?” 

Cor looked down. Yes, he was right. Loqi could sneak past the usual patrols and squads sent on normal duty, but he wouldn’t dare get the attention of the highest ranked officers and the private security Regis counted with.

He ignored Clarus’ look of doubt on purpose.

\--

Three days later, DeMasque appeared again after a month of silence. Or, at least, he gave signs of coming back to his mischief, in the only way that suit him best: big, flashy, and fabulous. 

“Sir!” an officer chimed into Cor’s office, agitated, knowing that this sort of news were red-code tagged to be alerted to Cor personally as soon as there was any. “A Mask DeMasque announcement appeared on 207 Tenebris Street.”  
“An announcement?” Cor asked, his DeMasque alert immediately switching his adrenaline on. “What sorta?”

The officer took a moment to look at Cor with stress.  
“It’s a Calling Card.”

\--

‘Salutations’ read the front, along ‘Mask DeMasque, and his smiley face logo. The usual was that the back of the card said when and where he was going to commit the theft. Calling cards appeared at the place that would be target of the next theft, or, though no one knew how, in the clothes of the person to be robbed. Never had they appeared on a public space, never without the target’s name or the intentions, and never as an announcement on a big hacked screen advertisement. 

Soon after getting the notice, Cor didn’t lose time and grabbed his stuff, got in the car, and headed straight for the main public square of Insomnia, where the hacked screen waited for him.  
Upon arrival, Cor had to put the siren on to open a path through the curious citizens that had crowded around to look at the advertisement. Three years of magic tricks and sneaky escapes recorded and posted on the internet had for sure done a lot to earn him fans and a public, so it wasn’t weird that this strange, unexpected event would call people’s attention.

Some dared go in their own Mask DeMasque costume or merchandise. Cor tried to not yell anything at anyone, and it didn’t take much effort. Lamentably, he was so very used to this.  
Once he opened the path enough, he got off the car and looked up to the advertisement.  
The screen showed a card just like the real paper ones. Colorful, the word ‘Salutation’ was big on top, and his name (well, his Phantom Thief name) at the bottom. In the middle, his emblem, smiley, mischievous, a prankster. Cor tried looking around, but he spotted no address or victim name.

He looked down at the street and looked around in case he could spot the thief himself, and took his radio.  
“Got anything?”  
“No, Marshal, the zone is clear” an officer replied from the other end of the line. “There’s nothing at the back of the screen, and there’s no signs of him in the building.”  
“Understood. Keep searching” and so, after his officers replied, he switched to another radio. “Got anything?”  
“Not yet, Marshal” the agent answered. “It’s the strangest net I’ve ever tried to de-hack. DeMasque, or his team if he’s got it, must have an informatics genius.”

Well, Loqi did say that he was an engineer and graduated with a ridiculously high score, and he was well known (thanks to his parents’ presumptions) as a genius boy. Cor had thought it was only the typical bragging of rich parents about their only child, but he wouldn’t doubt that Loqi alone could have done such masterpiece of hacking, even for such unimportant thing like displaying an announcement. That sneaky brat. How dare he be so intelligent even for the most absurd things? 

Cor had no option but to stand there, giving instructions and receiving updates of anything, while waiting for whatever to happen. People paced around, trying to get a look, and taking photographs. Some smartass had brought DeMasque balloons and was making money out of the fans on hype crowded there. A while later, another police car arrived. Cor looked its way.

Clarus arrived at the scene, calm but attentive like always. Then, unexpectedly, Regis came out of the passenger seat.   
Something inside Cor rung, and he felt a pinch of sudden fear.   
He turned to look at Clarus.  
“Why did you bring him?” he whispered.   
“My turn was off and we were going to get dinner” Clarus replied as lowly so Regis wouldn’t hear them. “It’s fine, he’s with us.”

Cor didn’t reply. He looked at Regis again, watched him come off the car and go to Clarus’ side while looking around at the scene.   
Cor looked slightly down. He couldn’t help but feel uneasy. Wonderful, just the day that Clarus had foreshadowed this…

After an exchange of a few words with both his friends, they went back to silence, just attentive, waiting for whatever was happening, alert to any news or sights. 

It didn’t take long. It was right at ten at night when the announcement moved a little in a simple animation.   
Then, the drum roll that Cor had grown so acquainted with started ringing in his ears, and seconds later, the loud bang of cymbals and the beginning of the melody thundered through the streets and the square: Mask DeMasque’s theme, orchestra, as he liked to have it during his mischief if the situation allowed it. 

The crowd cheered and screamed like a famous pop band had come on stage, raising the arms, flailing their merchandise or clapping. Cor and Clarus got on alert mode and started giving instructions through the radio, as usual; which zones to cover, which streets to block, and to look in this or that building, for the thief or for the speakers with the music, anything that could hint them to the right path. 

The melody went on for a while. Cor got distracted into it and had to shake the head to focus back in his present.  
Then, the music went up, and just like that, in that moment of climax in the music, there was a colorful cloud in a poof on the roof, in front of the advertisement, and as the beat dropped for the music to rise again, DeMasque appeared from the colorful cloud, arms open, and as flamboyant as always.

The crowd screamed and cheered much more loudly, roaring. Regis looked around with big eyes, surprised at the volume of the noise and the size of the hype.   
Cor’s heart skipped a beat and he frowned when he looked at DeMasque.   
That idiot.

On the roof, DeMasque seemed to enjoy of the cheering. He kept the arms open and welcoming, as he stepped forwards to the edge of the roof, with his huge salutation card behind himself. He looked side and side, huge, flattered grin upon his face, and gesturing flamboyantly at his fans.  
“Do I need to tell anyone to go to that fucking roof right now?” Cor whispered-shouted into his radio, angrily. He got a bunch of unintelligible rushed responses, and he kept watching the show. 

Gesturing with the hands, DeMasque asked for silence. After a while trying to control the crowd, they fell into silence rather quickly out of knowing that the longer they kept him there, the more the chances the police would crash in.   
DeMasque stood at the roof quietly for a moment, as if admiring the peace.   
Then, he spoke.  
“Dear people of Insomnia, I shall be quick, as we’ve already got our Insomnia Police Department friends here” he spoke, and even though he was clearly yelling, there had to be some microphone and speakers somewhere. Cor gave quick orders to look for any of that. “I came here to announce my retirement.”

And the crowd lost their heads.  
There was a new roar, and people started yelling or talking with each other, causing a chaos of noise.   
Cor, with the eyes wide and the heart skipping a beat, looked with shock at the thief, and then quickly looked at his partner. Clarus, just as shocked, looked back at him lost and startled.   
Cor could feel himself having gone pale. For a moment, he felt as if he had heard that he and everyone were going to die in three seconds.   
Retirement? No one ever said anything about retirement…!

“Please, please, be quiet!”  
Cor snapped his head back to look up at the thief on the roof. Though with more effort and struggle, DeMasque managed to get the people to silence again, and he waited a bit until the murmuring was over.   
“I know it’s coming out as a surprise” he said. “I didn’t intend to, really. But I’m…” he shrugged. “Getting bored. And a bit tired. I’m running out of tricks, you know.”

If it was a joke, people didn’t laugh. Cor was sure that, as if though it was the news that the most loved musician had died, he heard someone sob and sniffle.   
“Now, don’t be sad!” DeMasque said cheerfully from his spot, gesturing as exaggeratedly as he always did. “It’s the best for everyone. Gotta die a hero than let this go on for so long, it becomes a dull, grey tragedy, right?” after a shy wave of murmurs, DeMasque raised the voice and the energy in it and his movements. “Art is a spark. Ephemeral” he said a little too dramatically, then quickly switched back to his usual mischievous attitude. “But like every big artist, I cannot say goodbye just like that, can I?” he put his two index up as he spoke, then shook the head. “No, dear. As my final act before I retire, I’m going to offer my _greatest_ show, my biggest tricks, and my best performance: my Gran Finale!”

People shared some murmurs again. In the background, quiet, the music raised again. Overall, the tension grew, the expectations went up and up, and it made Cor more and more nervous, more anxious with each passing second. The pause that Loqi let linger made the expectation and tension go on on purpose until nearly driving him crazy.   
DeMasque smiled.  
“And for my Grand Finale I’m going to get the one thing no one has stolen and no one will ever steal after me.”

Yet another pause on purpose that made the crowd talk louder and faster, expectative, now eager.

And then Loqi looked down.  
Cor’s heart skipped a beat.  
Clarus looked at him.  
 _Oh no._

Cor’s eyebrow trembled.  
 _He’s looking at me._

Cor’s heart kept flipping and stopping inside his chest, switching between that and racing like mad. His hands turned to fists and glared back up at DeMasque.   
DeMasque smirked at him.  
Cor’s eyebrow twitched.

And then, DeMasque looked away of him, and slightly to the left. He put his index finger up and pointed at the same person that the announcement behind him suddenly showed on live camera.  
Regis.  
“The Mayor’s very own ring!”

And so, the crowd went nuts once more. Regis’ face of surprise stayed on the camera for a bit, and then, at the time the crowd went crazy, the officers around Regis started surrounding him and nearly tackling him like instead of being pointed at with a finger, he had been threatened of death with a gun. Clarus himself reacted more exaggeratedly than he would have intended, getting in front of Regis and opening an arm as if to get in the way between him and the ‘danger’, and the officers started urging Regis back into the police car amongst the loud roar of the crowd.   
Cor looked at the ball of panicked officers that hid Regis behind them. Unlike them, Cor was standing still. Yet, he wasn’t calm.   
He was merely paralyzed. 

A second later, Cor looked back up at the Phantom Thief. He was still pointing at Regis, smirking widely, and watching the chaos. Cor tried frowning, but everything he got was an eyebrow twitching slightly, and cold sweat. He couldn’t move. He stood frozen and trembling, watching the thief with wide eyes. He tried breathing, but it would cut each time he tried.   
Amongst the confusion, DeMasque put his hand down and turned to Cor again, subtly. Despite the distance in between, Cor was sure they were holding eye contact. Loqi’s eyes…burnt. He could recognize and feel it no matter the distance.   
He saw him smile widely. 

Cor suddently felt…tiny. Pathetic. Under Loqi’s sole.   
This was…unfair…!

DeMasque took air in and put the arms up again.  
“Don’t miss my Grand Finale, on September twentieth, nine p.m., at the Citadel!” he requested. “I’ll be taking the mayor’s very own ring, and giving my goodbye to this dear city as the stage that it’s been for me so kindly” and so, as some officers appeared at the roof, DeMasque took his hat off and used it to bow deeply and exaggeratedly. Once he stood back straight, he put the hat on once more. “Mayor Caelum, sweetest, do check your pocket, my card is in there” and so, as the officers ran towards him, he yelled a last thing. “Everyone’s invited!”

He laughed his characteristic laugh of mischief, and it echoed through the street even after there was another sudden colorful cloud and the officers tackled the air and each other at the spot where DeMasque was supposed to be standing. 

Cor kept his eyes on that last spot. His skin was ticklish, and the cold sweat was starting to be notorious. Despite the roar of the crowd and the mess with the officers messing with Regis, Cor couldn’t bring himself out of his thoughts to intervene anywhere or to be the slightest bothered.  
He could just think about Mask DeMasque and the information of that night.  
Retirement.  
He said _retirement._

\--

Loqi was almost expecting Cor’s visit outside the gym. When he left the taxi, he didn’t go straight to the door. Rather, he turned around to face the other side of the street, and he immediately found the cop standing there, like usual whenever he visited, resting against a lamppost, arms crossed, and in civilian clothing. That day, Loqi gave him a smile different than the usual ones faking innocence. This one was cheeky, not afraid of saying ‘Yes, I did that thing’. 

After the taxi left, Loqi waited some moments standing in his spot before crossing the street. He looked up at the Marshal and kept smiling.  
“You never said anything about retiring” Cor said straight away, without a glance, gesture, or word of greeting.   
“I did” Loqi said faking surprise. “Last night.”  
“I mean before last night” Cor said a bit too harsh, uncrossing the arms and looking down at Loqi with a frown that seemed way much more worried than angered. He seemed to be waiting for Loqi to say it wasn’t true, but it was in vain. He put his hands to his waist and sighed nervously. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”  
“And give you a vantage hand?” Loqi laughed shortly. “Oh dear, no. And I was for real, I hadn’t planned it at all until like last month. I’m sorry it’s so sudden, sweetie. I know you love our escapades.”  
“They’re not escap-” Cor cut himself there and looked away, teeth clenching and sucking in his lips, mentally counting to ten to remind himself he couldn’t just murder this guy right there and then. He shook the head, not making eye contact. “…unbelievable. Retirement, out of nowhere.”

Loqi kept gazing and smiling at him. He was quiet and apparently either thoughtful or waiting for Cor to say more, or both, all while giving him that stupid, playful smile. A bit later, Loqi took in a breath and got closer. Cor tensed and thought he was going to make some funny, not good movement. He watched with the guard up as Loqi looked for something in a pocket of his bag, and flinched a little when he pulled the hand out, but quickly relaxed when he saw he only had grabbed a deck of cards.

Cor watched the deck, then using only the eyes he looked at Loqi, finding him staring with that gaze that looked grayish in sunlight, so intense it was piercing without even trying. He spread the cards in his grip, making a fan out of them. He put them up facing Cor.  
“As you can see, all of them are different, right?” he pointed out. Cor gave him a look of disinterest and boredom. Loqi urged a little by moving the hands a bit. Cor looked at the cards, paying attention that none was hiding behind another, really watching them one by one, and found all of them were different. Loqi put them down again and turned them to a deck once more, and, still smiling smugly and relaxed, he started shuffling it.

Cor didn’t take the eyes off Loqi’s even when he wasn’t staring back for a while, but then looked down at the deck to make sure he didn’t miss a stupid trick. Loqi still shuffled for a bit, and then stopped, opening them onto a fan again but this time facing down.  
“Grab one.”  
Cor looked up at him and he frowned a little in disbelief. Loqi still waited, looking absolutely serious on the matter of cheap card magic tricks. He looked up at Cor when he didn’t see him moving, and put the eyebrows up, reaching the cards closer to him.   
“Come on” he urged. “Grab one.”

Cor still gave him that blank face for a while. He stared intensely with that bored and annoyed look as if expecting for Loqi to take it all back, but the blond insisted. Cor sighed and shook the head, but he moved a hand up. He hesitated at first; he wasn’t going to grab one in the middle because card tricks made people always grab the ones in the middle, and hell no, Cor wasn’t going to fall into any of that. His hand went to one of the edges, and took the third starting the row. He heard Loqi make an ‘Ooh’ noise as if amused or delighted.   
“Now look at it” Loqi kept indicating. Annoyed, Cor looked at it. Very much ironically as life treated him every second of his miserable existence, he had pulled out a custom Joker with Mask DeMasque’s emblem on it. He felt a pinch in the stomach, and was ready to groan and roll the eyes, but he contained every tiny reaction he could show, from any movement of the lips or the eyelids or the corner of his eyebrow, to his gaze. No. Loqi was _not_ going to see his reaction because, one, he would enjoy it, and two, he would know which card it was and that was cheating. 

Cor looked as his card as if it was blank, then at Loqi. The blond was smiling at him.  
“Now sign it.”  
“You’re way too bossy, you tiny brat.”  
“And you’re so obedient” Loqi said with exaggerated, cheesy delight. Cor pulled out a pen nonetheless, not shaken by the comment, not impressed and just feeling-less to everything at this point. Then, Loqi lowered the voice into a murmur. “It sort of turns me on.”

Cor looked up from the card to him, only with the eyes. Loqi was staring at him too, smile wide and biting down onto his lower lip, swinging a little in his spot as if impatient. Cor rolled the eyes and let out a little growl of exasperation, and proceeded to ignore the blond, signing the card. He didn’t use any sign he had used before, neither his current one or others he had had, and invented one on the spot, just to try and spoil Loqi’s trick with something he wouldn’t be able to have a copy of. He offered it back to Loqi, but the young man just shook the head and put his incomplete deck back in his bag.   
“Keep it, baby boy” Loqi told him. Cor’s teeth clenched and he tried to not show any anger as to not give him more excuses to keep annoying him. “You’ll be surprised. Don’t leave it unseen, alright?”

But Cor didn’t reply. After putting the card in a pocket of his pants, he sighed and looked elsewhere, shaking the head. For a good while, as Loqi waited for an answer, Cor just kept looking elsewhere, jaw tight and moving at times, hands at his waist, and eyebrows slightly furrowed. Watching him, Loqi started smiling between sweet and smug in a way only he seemed to pull off. 

He took in a breath and got closer.  
“It’s ok. It’s natural you’re feeling like this about my retirement” and so, he got another step close until they were inches apart. Cor looked down at him, not impressed, and waiting. “It _is_ your last chance, after all” he whispered slowly, dragging the words with that tone of sensuality that Cor hated so much. A last chance. The words made Cor’s heart skip a bit and he looked away for a moment. It felt like speaking about an imminent death both were aware of but hadn’t mentioned until now. It made his stomach wrench. “Your last and only chance. Three years trying over, and over, and over…and you only have _one_ chance left” Loqi moved the hands up and adjusted Cor’s hoodie on him. “Of course you’re reacting like this. All these three years, reduced into one last chase, one last chance” Cor looked at him, eyebrows furrowed, and then looked down, not hiding the nerves. Loqi waited a bit before he moved a hand up and patted one of his cheeks. “Good luck, Marshal.”

And with that, Loqi let go slowly of his cheek while getting away, until giving him a last smile and turning around. Cor’s face followed his hand until it let go, and he watched with worried eyes as the small blond left. He watched him until he had crossed the street, and until he disappeared behind the door, without once glancing back at him. 

In his spot, Cor put his hands in the pocket of his hoodie and he looked down, eyebrows furrowing.  
…one last chance. He had only one last chance to catch him. These three years couldn’t be in vain. He couldn’t let them go to waste. He had to do it, and he had only this last chance.

His fucking retirement.

\--

Regis’ ring was an antique and a valuable national treasure, not particularly expensive, but rich in significance and, mostly, with an irreplaceable historical value.

It was a ring that had passed down through _all_ generations of the mayors Insomnia had gone through, and even before that, through an unknown quantity of generations of ancient leaders, chiefs and kings alike, centuries, maybe even millenia worth within this one ring, as an ancient symbol of power and lead, obligatory in ancient times, and now only a metaphor, but a really estimated one. No one really used to pay attention to it, as its only value was historical like an ancient helmet or spear in a museum, until only last year, when it was announced that the parliament was discussing the possibility of, for the first time in history, gifting the ring to Regis, the current mayor, once his government was over. 

It was no longer necessary as a symbol of power, only a metaphorical gift from mayor to mayor, and Regis, having being re-elected three times, had turned into some sort of personal owner to the people’s eyes, like it was not the mayor’s ring anymore, but mayor _Regis’_ ring.

“I guess I’d pass it to my son afterwards, but only as a new family tradition” Regis had once said, happy and smiley, to the media when he was interviewed on the possibility of keeping the ring. “Only as a family antique, though. My son is not interested in politics and I’m not going to force him into it if he doesn’t want to.”

Regis had done a particularly outstanding job as mayor, the most outstanding so far people could recall. Everything good rose in his lead, and the bad decreased, besides being one of the genuinely most humble mayors Insomnia had had. He had been the perfect prototype of a leader, and it never caused any controversy when the parliament brought up the idea of gifting him the ring, because it was rare to find someone that didn’t think that Regis deserved it. 

Of course Loqi couldn’t have thought of a better thing to steal as his Gran Finale. The most loved and popular person of Insomnia, and his most loved and famous belonging, of course Loqi was going to put the biggest target in his eye. Regis didn’t summon bad luck on him, it was just common sense that he would be Loqi’s biggest performance.

Cor couldn’t calm down in the two weeks that passed since the calling card and the day of the grand finale. He tried and managed to have real, good rest. He had learned through the tough way that not resting and pushing himself too hard was a perfect recipe for losing, because he may have trained to get stronger, but lack of rest would make him useless once in the crime scene. More than ever before, Cor tried to be as balanced and put as much effort as possible; the best diet he could, the best training, the best sleep, and the best focus, all in perfect balance to be on a two hundred percent on the big day.

During those weeks, he didn’t let Regis go unwatched. Every second, every single second since the announcement, Regis and his ring were observed by guards of Cor’s personal trust. People had suggested Regis took the ring off and put it somewhere safe so the safe or box would be under watch and not Regis.  
 _”That’s_ what he wants” Cor pointed out, firm and confident. “If we put it away, he’s going to get away with the whole box, open the safe somehow, or something. We put it away, and even if the box is in our watch from all angles, the ring itself won’t.”  
“But what if he cuts the mayor’s finger off?” a paranoid officer had suggested, at who Regis could only open the eyes wide like plates and turn to look at Clarus, who proceeded to rush at trying to comfort him.  
“He’s not going to do it” Cor stated just as confidently as before. “Regis’ finger is the safest place for the ring right now. DeMasque can be a sneaky bastard and steal the most valuable things, but he’d never harm anyone.”

So in some way, having the ring stay on Regis’ finger was like the equivalent of taking a hostage; Loqi couldn’t go near it without being captured, and wouldn’t dare do something like chop Regis’ finger off.   
And it seemed so easy that Cor was unable to stop thinking if _that_ was what Loqi wanted. It was so obvious, keeping the ring on its finger, so obvious that Cor feared he was falling in one of those tricks where Cor thought he was outsmarting Loqi by guessing what he wanted them to do, and guessing what Loqi wanted them to do was what Loqi wanted, to not do what Cor thought he would do and outsmart the outsmarting. 

Still, hard as he thought, Cor couldn’t think of a way in which Loqi would successfully steal the ring. Regis was under watch twenty-four seven, the ring was on his finger at every second, even when asleep and in the shower, and if Loqi got any close, they were going to capture him. Even if he avoided most cops, as he often did, he would still need to stop to retrieve the ring, and Regis was hardly going to stand still with the arm stretched and the ring lubricated for it to slip off in one movement.  
It seemed so easy…so of course Cor was paranoid because he knew Loqi, and the bastard was going to get away with it, somehow.

Cor didn’t even bother with being hopeful on the idea that Loqi wouldn’t steal it. He had his tight security on Regis to keep it safe, but had also made back-up plans, ready for the chase if necessary, and for it to be successful this time. He made plans for the scenarios of Loqi stealing it at Regis’ house, at the Citadel, in the street, for the routes of escape, for anything and everything he could think about.

His last chance. Loqi’s last performance, and Cor’s last chance at catching the only criminal that escaped his record.

And so, two weeks went by. Cor prepared himself mentally and physically in the best balance he could manage to be in his best condition ever. Regis was under watch all the time, Cor himself taking watch some nights in Regis’ own room, the mayor being followed everywhere by at least four officers, like he had been targeted by a murderer instead. 

Loqi, too, had been kept under watch. Cor couldn’t have him under watch all day every day, as it was illegal to keep watch under an apparently innocent civilian with no criminal records without their knowledge, and after what happened with Tummelt parents, Cor couldn’t risk it, but he still sent some legal spies every now and then to see where he went. Obviously, he was going to set his ‘stage’ up across those weeks, so Cor had to know where he was going and what traps he was hiding. But the spies had poor luck; Loqi followed his routine like a normal person, and whether he had luck, had set the traps way, way forehand, or was aware of the spies and sneaked away when he knew himself unseen, Cor didn’t know. 

And so, after the eternal wait, the expected date came up.

The night of Mask DeMasque’s Grand Finale.


	10. Grand Finale

The amount of people at the Main Square and streets of the Citadel, the government palace, was absurd.

Cor had anticipated a crowd and had ordered to keep the people out of the streets to keep them clear, but two or three times the number of people he had expected had shown up. They covered streets and streets, turning the night into multiple flashes, crowd noises of talking and cheering, and even street vendors, with Mask DeMasque masks (uh), dolls, little flags, shirts and jackets and even banners that said ‘You can do it’ and other phrases in his favor. It was absurd, it looked like there was going to be a free concert of the biggest musician or singer alive, that was how much people had gathered. For one gods damn thief. 

There were people with their drones ready. The police tried to ask some to not use them; they came up with the legal defense of ‘I’m not doing anything illegal’. Some were being used by the media, who were allowed to follow police chases, but were clearly all the way in for the gossip. There were people peeking from their windows if they had a good view of the street, many had prepared popcorns and snacks, and many had their televisions and computers ready to watch as soon as the mess would start.

The Citadel stood tall and regal. Besides its own lights, there were searchlights pointed to it, as well as more that moved around to keep the roofs under vigilance, as well as alleyways and plenty other spots around it. The police were all on duty across the city; most activities had been dropped for the sole purpose of surveillance and patrolling, officers in every corner, police cars travelling the streets, more officers on roofs, on windows, secretly looking from windows and corners. Cameras installed and working, facial recognition, squads and squads on Intel watching every screen of every camera for every movement with hawk eyes. 

It was madness. It was as if though the most dangerous murderer was loose in the city and literally everybody would die if they didn’t catch him on time. And all this, for a guy in a circus costume that just wanted a fucking ring.

The entrances and all the perimeter of the fence around the Citadel were all covered by the elite forces. Within it, the gardens were being patrolled by more of them. Around the entrances to the building, more, as well as the roof, and many patrolling the hallways, some with a fixed position as to not lose sight for one second of key places.  
And more and more guards the closer one got to a particular office. It wasn’t the main one, just a randomly chosen office in a space that could be within the Citadel enough to need to cross hallways to get there, and no other access like windows.  
Outside the doors, on the office above, below, and the ones to the sides, stood more fully armed guards.

And in the office stood a whole squad of officers, all of them identified and of full trust of the police, police Chief Clarus Amicitia, mayor Regis Lucis Caelum, and in his finger, his treasured ring.

The guards stood in place alert as if though it was some deathly assault they would have to cover with all their forces. Clarus himself stood there alert and aware, eyes open and mind fully focused, nearby Regis.  
Regis stood near the desk, a little nervous, toying with the ring without taking it off his finger.  
“Clarus” Regis called. “This is getting out of hand. I could just let him steal it, he’ll give it back. It’s no biggie.”  
“I know” Clarus replied with a sigh. “I think this is sort of dumb, too. But Cor really wants to catch this guy, and this is our last chance” and so, the Chief messed a bit with his friend’s hair, smiling at him. “Keep that safe in your finger for him, okay?”

After a moment, Regis smiled at him and nodded once, and went back to being quiet as they had been ordered to be, to hear anything, any tiny little thing out of place.  
Eight and half.

And time went like that. After lunch and near the estimated hour, everyone had been still in their place, as to nullify DeMasque’s famous tactic of setting an hour for the heist, but doing the actual stealing hours earlier and just showing up afterwards for the chase. Locked in there for the past eight hours, everyone always in pairs to the bathroom stops, the Citadel was in such tight security like it never had been before, and awaited for nine in the night to hit for the big moment.  
Eight and fifty.

People outside cheered, lights flashed every now and then with some snapped photographs for the memories, and officers keeping an alert eye. Lights moved around, everyone looked at the clock ticking and going, and the closer the moment, the louder the crowd cheered and searched, the more frantic everyone looked around and pointed places, eight and fifty eight, the tension grew and grew, every silhouette made everyone jump in place, eight and fifty nine, people cheered and yelled and everyone was either too quiet waiting in tension or yelling in excitement, and then-

Nine p.m.

At first, there was nothing but a sudden silence. As if though someone had pressed mute, people kept quiet as if that way allowing the artist to make his big entrance. Everyone alike, police and civilians, people interested and people that hadn’t been into this before, everyone kept silent, almost not breathing, eyes wide, and looking around slowly. 

And then it happened.

At first it was subtle, but it was there; a drum roll on crescendo.  
As soon as it was clear enough, the crowd exploded in cheers and continued looking around amidst exclamations and more yelling, the drum roll kept increasing, and suddenly, it burst into cymbals, and music started playing. It wasn’t DeMasque’s theme as itself, but some sort of intro that sounded alike.

Inside the Citadel, the guards kept their position as they had been told to not be startled by anything, except the ones in the office with Regis. There, they looked around attentively, trying to figure out what was happening outside. Regis and Clarus, too, looked around quietly.  
“What’s going on?” Regis asked, fingers holding tighter to his ring. 

Outside, no one was able to catch sight of the thief and kept looking mostly at the Citadel. And then, out of nowhere, from some speakers somewhere, a voice.  
“Ladies, gentlemen, and others” the voice called like a professional presentator. “For around three years entertaining this city, doing no harm and proving that thievery can be refined and artistic…”

Inside the Citadel, the Intel team got into work, alert to the camera screens. Orders were made, said and followed, and officers started moving.  
“…keeping this short as police are tracking him down right now” and some people burst out laughing for a brief moment, “the one and only, the brightest, the talented, the beautiful, the ever so great…” and then, suddenly, a pair of the searchlights that everyone had assumed were part of the police pointed at the roof of a building across the large square from the Citadel’s main entrance, everyone turned to look, and then-

Standing right on the building, on a little platform, the lights landed on and enlightened the figure of the man so awaited for days.  
Dressed in the so well known green coat, white pants and red boots, with the extravagant hat and sleeves, and behind that silver mask, the thief opened the arms wide and long when the lights fell on him.  
“The Phantom Thief!” he announced, being the voice in the speakers. “Mask DeMasque!”

And so he just stood there, with the arms open, while everyone cheered like it was truly a famous artist making a flashy entrance.

Meanwhile, as the people cheered and DeMasque gloated in the attention, the police started moving.  
“He’s here, repeat, he’s here” some high commands were radioing, while all over the city officers moved and got into action. The address of the building DeMasque was at was delivered and officers rushed not only there, but to the nearby buildings. 

And so, DeMasque stood at the roof, grinning down at his audience and letting them clap and cheer for a good while. Then, he presented a slow, kind of exaggerated bow to them, staying down for a moment before coming back up.  
“And welcome to my Grand Finale!” DeMasque announced once more, cheerful and bright. As he spoke, the police started moving as they had orders; only enough of a squad upstairs to the roof, and more of them alert on the buildings next door. DeMasque, calm as if no one was after him, just kept going talking to the audience like the artist he had become. “Even though I never intended to be a magician, just an acrobat, tonight is a special night where you people deserve the best show you’ve ever witnessed. So, keep your eyes open wide, for tonight you will witness not only a heist and a chase, but my best magic tricks!”

The people continued cheering, and the police still kept moving, though it would be a lie to say that those whose role was to keep an eye on DeMasque weren’t mildly into the speech, too, curious and captivated like was inevitable against DeMasque’s charm.  
“Indeed” DeMasque kept announcing in the speakers, apparently with a tiny microphone in the mask. “The heist itself _is_ a magic trick!”

Inside the Citadel, Clarus blinked in confusion and looked down at Regis next to him and his hand. Regis still kept the hands up by his chest, fingers holding the ring. Clarus looked again at the walls and around, as if expecting the thief to appear from thin air. Was DeMasque…he knew it was just a stupid, silly question and it had no logic, but he couldn’t help thinking, was DeMasque actually going to do magic? 

Outside, on the roof, DeMasque was letting a bit of silence go on as people cheered.  
“Behold!” he announced finally, opening the arms for a moment. There was a pause, and people started quietening down in expectation. Finally, with as much silence was was possible, with flashlights from cameras and the lights on him, DeMasque smiled widely, and announced in a lower, ominous voice, “My final act.”

The drum roll dropped.

On the platform that he had apparently set specifically for the show, DeMasque stood still and lowered the arms. Then, he turned gracefully to face the Citadel. There was a street, a square, another street, the main gates, and still a trail separating him and the Citadel. Yet, he looked calm, and everyone stared in interest as he apparently had no intentions of getting off the roof and simply stood there. He bent a knee, stood straight, and put a hand to his lower back. For a moment, he just stood there like that, watching the Citadel, with more of the background music playing. 

The drones started flying around him, and the broadcast started. Screens for both the police and viewers started broadcasting the picture of DeMasque from different angles, some further than others to show a full body shot, and others closer up. The wind made DeMasque´s coat tail swing behind him, as his hat and the feathers gently moved along the gusts.  
“We need to see him, though” DeMasque announced, and then, with his free hand, he snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, some of the screens started broadcasting the inside of the Citadel.  
“We’ve been hacked” one of the Intel officers announced as they verified that their cameras worked fine. “They’re not controlling the cameras but they have access to view them.”  
The screens started showing office after office, like the thief himself (or, better said, whoever was hacking the camera system) had genuinely no idea which camera was the one they needed and going one by one, until finally stumbling upon the camera at the one office where the mayor and a police squad were in.  
“They’re showing the mayor, repeat, they’re showing the mayor” more Intel officers announced, and so, Regis blinked in surprise and held his ring finger closer to himself, mouth opening a bit. 

At first, people cheered only for that little achievement of having a clear view, everyone attentive and fully focused on the mayor even more than they were on the thief. For a moment, DeMasque stood calm while people quietened and brought their attention back to him. He let a pause linger in the quiet, just the wind around him and the moon above. 

And then, DeMasque put a hand up, reaching for the sky.

Everyone kept quiet and watched, attentive.  
Elegantly, DeMasque started moving the arm down, almost like a ballet dancer on a slow performance, until his arm and hand pointed at the Citadel, palm up, and he unrolled the fingers just enough for an open hand. And he stayed there, as if inviting the Citadel for a dance, offering his gloved hand and not moving.  
No one made a noise. Most people contained the breath and stared with wide eyes at the thief. 

Suddenly, in the office the mayor waited at, there was a sudden noise that made people turn to the ceiling, and, suddenly, the sprinkles went off. At first, people reacted with a flinch and trying to take cover, but at Clarus’ command they stayed still and put the guard up.  
“It’s most likely a distraction” he stated as he, not watching, took his jacket off and covered Regis with it, while the mayor hid under it at his side as if a little bird under its mother’s wing. “Eyes everywhere as usual!”

Regis stayed in his position, watching the sprinkles as they continued going off.

Outside, on the roof, DeMasque kept the eyes softly closed and a smug smile on his face, staying still in that position with the hand reaching for the Citadel. At first, people didn’t quite catch what was going on.

DeMasque started moving the hand up; it stayed there for a moment, and then turned it around and closed the fist, twisted the arm once gracefully, and at the same time his music theme started blasting in the speakers, he casually and elegantly flipped a ring into the air, catching it once more in hand, and showed it off with the arm fully stretched.  
“The mayor’s ring!” he announced, and as people gasped and mildly cheered, but still confused, they focused on the screens that showed the mayor. 

Regis stayed still, watching the broadcast on the screen they had at the office, and then, certain that he had never let go of his finger, he looked down at his ring.  
Even though he still wore the ring in his finger, he gasped and his eyes went wide.  
“It’s a fake!” 

And because they had access to their audio as well, the statement made the crowd burst out in hysterical cheering.  
DeMasque, calmly, just laughed and took the hat off dramatically, swinging it in the air and bowing, while keeping the ring in hand and showing it off. In the office, Clarus checked Regis’ finger and ring like they were deathly or like he couldn’t believe his eyes, while the guards went nuts with having no idea what had just happened, even daring to inspect the water like the thief was there. Clarus’ eyebrow twitched when he saw the ring.  
It was grey. It was a dull grey of a dull, common metal anyone could get at any store. No precious stone, no shape of the First King, and definitely not the material the real ring was.  
“It’s a fake” Clarus whispered in shock.

Outside, the people kept cheering and yelling.  
“Thank you, Insomnia!” DeMasque exclaimed joyfully, standing back up and putting the hat back on. With another movement, he flipped the ring in the air again like it was a coin, and then he put it away in a pocket. “And may you enjoy the second act!” And, more to himself than to the little microphone, he smiled and murmured, “It’s showtime.”

As the main melody of his theme started playing, he jumped off the platform, dramatically swung the cape around himself as if to hide behind it, and he disappeared.  
While the crowd yelled like crazy and the flashes of cameras went off, the drones searching and the TV broadcasting either the mayor and the chaos in the office as they tried to figure out what had happened, or the streets in search of the Phantom Thief, the police and waves and waves of officers started moving around the vicinity and as receiving orders from Intel.  
“It’s Marshal time” someone at Intel said a second after seeing DeMasque jump off and disappear in thin air, and pressing a signal button. 

Cor Leonis, the Immortal, police Marshal and lead officer in Mask DeMasque’s capture, had been, this entire time, at the garage of the Citadel, getting ready.  
As soon as DeMasque jumped off, the Marshal appeared from within the shadows and walked towards the door.

Dressed in a tight, custom made, high technology tactical combat suit designed for expert chases and/or infiltrations of high risk, Cor adjusted the gloves on his hands to fit perfectly. He wore special cuffs out of any other person’s reach, and he was armed across the pockets of his pants and his multi-use belt that looked as if taken from a fiction comic book, with expandable batons at his sides, stun guns, tactical flashlights and knives, paracords and a high-tech rope with a hook that fit in one of his belt’s pockets but was way larger than it seemed, smoke mini bombs; fabric that didn’t get easily stuck on sharp things, nor got wet neither in water nor any slipper substance; knee and elbow protectors that bent easily, shaped to his body. And his gods damn great skills at chase and capture. 

Putting the expandable sticks back in their slim, almost unnoticeable sheats, Cor kept walking and headed to his nemesis.  
“It’s showdown.”

Some seconds after DeMasque had disappeared into his cape, the cameras spotted him.  
“There he is!” they exclaimed and got closer.  
DeMasque had approached one of the crowds at a nearby street, and he had gone straight for one of the girls that handled one of the fan drones. He was talking with her, apparently trying to be firm and quick, while she just nodded, and both started messing with a few devices.  
Suddenly, on some of the screens appeared the face of the girl and the people around her.  
“It’s working fine, right?” DeMasque was shouting to be heard from above the loud cheering around him, while she nodded and said ‘Yes’ back.

“DeMasque has a camera on his mask” one of the agents at Intel announced as more screens started getting hacked with the same image that was clearly what was in front of DeMasque.  
“It may be another distraction, he plans everything in detail” Clarus was ordering through his radio. “I want some people following his steps through the camera, and some focusing everywhere else, we need eyes everywhere, not just where he wants us to look.”

And because DeMasque was in the middle of the street, the police started approaching him. Some of the crowd started moving away to not be involved in any fight, until the street cleared and DeMasque was left alone in the middle of it with a wave of officers running his way.  
Calmly if quickly, out of nowhere, DeMasque pulled out a little stick, threw it slightly up, and it unfolded into a much larger pole that he grabbed again mid-air, and just as he grabbed it, he twisted it in circles, turned around, and he smacked a first cop on the face with it, making him fall backwards.

The music kept going in the background, and even though it was a fight, the people still cheered at how lightheartedly DeMasque seemed to be taking this. He smiled and laughed, and he moved around with the pole like an expert, almost like this to him was a dance and not a fight. He moved and turned the pole around gracefully, making officers stumble and fall, making them move back, or knocking them out one by one as they tried to rain on him. 

After a brief moment fighting the officers off, DeMasque put the pole away, turning it short again, and, having the attention as he stood in the middle of Insomnia’s main avenue after his combat victory, he clicked his heels together, and his soles suddenly grew wheels.  
DeMasque laughed his trait maniac, mischievous laugh, turned around on his heels, and he started dashing away roller skating.

People cheered and waved as he skated past, and as a new wave of officers tried dashing after him as fast as they could…but even the fastest started tiring out and were unable to catch up.  
Because DeMasque, having planned it all, knew that Insomnia’s main avenue was downhill.

Skating downhill and letting gravity give him speed to move faster than the police behind him or any running person, DeMasque stopped skating by himself to let the rollers do the job for him, so that he could stand straight and open the arms, smiling smugly, for his public. The crowd still cornered on the sidewalks cheered and clapped for him, almost like it was a parade where he was the main attraction, and as he passed by, the people kept cheering.

“We’re losing him” one of the officers radioed, giving up on the attempt of catching up with him on feet.  
And as he started radioing for where DeMasque was headed so that the squads ahead would block his path or catch up, something dashed past him fast like a bullet, making him stumble a step forwards and instinctively put a hand to his head to hold his hat in place. He looked up and watched eye widened.

Cor knew DeMasque wasn’t just going to run, no. The brat was too much of an attention whore to not go out with style. So Cor had decided to go out even better.

While showing off to his public, DeMasque heard a roar behind, so he looked over his shoulder to see what the police had brought.

Cor Leonis appeared behind, on a black sport motorcycle, at full speed headed to him.

For a moment, DeMasque turned around fully to skate backwards as if not believing his eyes. Then, he laughed and turned around again, and he stopped with the bragging and showing off to speed up as fast as he could, swinging the arms and roll skating as fast as he could, like a professional racer. 

For a brief moment, some people focused on the screens that followed the Marshal, suddenly cheering out loud for the heroic entrance like they had never seen him before; in the tactical uniform that looked like taken out of a spy or hero movie, and in a motorcycle they didn’t even know existed, chasing after DeMasque at full speed.

It was clear Loqi was not going to outspeed a sports motorcycle, and especially not whatever the hell the Immortal was riding. Loqi kept dashing as fast as possible until the avenue was flat again instead of downhill and kept going, tracing his plan in his mind and connecting the dots as he had to do every time; on the go.  
Reaching a corner, DeMasque got close to the sidewalk and not stopping he held to the lamppost at the corner with a hand, so the speed itself made him turn in a sharp curve that he, on roller skates, could do easily, but not so would a car…or a bike.

Aware of this, Cor didn’t even attempt the turn, almost like he already knew Loqi would take it when Loqi himself had just planned it, and just kept going straight at full speed.  
“Clarus” he called while not slowing down.  
“Turn right next street” Clarus’ voice replied from his ear gadget. The police Chief, now with the Intel team as they had planned if DeMasque managed to steal the ring, stayed alert to the satellital view where they followed both DeMasque and Cor. “Now!”

And not questioning, Cor turned as soon as he had a chance.  
DeMasque avoided easily whatever officers he found in the way, dodging and moving out of the way before they could grab or tackle him, moving as best as he could through the streets. He took a new street, but, suddenly, the roar of Cor’s sport bike echoed from one of its sides, and he was soon in view. Retreating not having expected it and stumbling a bit, DeMasque turned around and took the other side, hurried, and took another sharp turn for Cor to need new routes that would take him longer to catch up with him.

“Left under the bridge and left when you come up” Clarus radioed, and Cor complied, turning in the right way while Loqi dashed away through another. The thief and the cop took different routes, both dashing as fast as they could, one on rollerskates at medium speed but more agile shortcuts, and the other on a motorcycle, unable to take the same routes but faster through the ones it could. 

Loqi took some more streets as Cor chased after him not like other times, but tactically this time; instead of running behind him, running in the best routes that would make him, sooner or later, intercept him.  
Some police officers tried to get DeMasque as well. At some point, having left Cor behind but finding cops ahead, Loqi kept going before going down on his ankles to avoid someone that tried tackling him, and gracefully side to side when two more tried as well. Hearing the now familiar roar of the bike, Loqi kept going ahead, and then, hearing attentively at the bike that got closer, he moved to a side; Cor sped past and didn’t stop, taking the turn at the end of the street instead of turning around. Loqi turned around and decided to take an alleyway, where some officers waited; skillfully, Loqi hit one with the stick out of the way, and dodged another one, making it out and taking another downhill to speed up. 

Skating as fast as he could, Loqi took another avenue. Some officers lined their cars up to make a blockade; Loqi sped up, and once he was close, too close, he jumped just enough but put the hands ahead; like he wasn’t wearing the rollers, he used the hands instead of a gymnastics jump, hands on the hood of one of the cars, taking the speed impulse, and jumping across them. He did struggle a bit at landing but kept going forwards without thinking to speed away of the police.  
Having being warned of the blockade, Cor took another route so that he didn’t slow down once and followed Loqi on the street parallel to it, waiting for the right moment to turn. 

After having gone for a while successfully, Loqi briefly looked over his shoulder when, finally, he heard the bike behind him and saw the lights fall on him. Looking back ahead, he chuckled and sped up.  
Okay, so he needed to find somewhere that Leonis couldn’t follow.

Turning to a side, Loqi started skating onto the sidewalk and went into a public square. He could hear the bike, but paid it no mind as he jumped onto a low railing that went downstairs into the subway, sped through the hallways and avoided the startled cops that had barely reacted, not expecting him there, and he rolled into the wagon as it was closing the doors.  
“Train 901, he’s on train 901 moving to the front” the captain of the police of the district they were at radioed as she too followed the action, having being radioed earlier by the police in the subway. 

Inside the train, people moved away as Loqi, still on rolling skates, moved wagon after wagon, avoiding the few officers on board; to the side to avoid one, knocking one down with the stick, and pretending to be about to jump just to stop and have the officer tackle the air.  
“He’s coming down on Klain station” Cor heard Clarus in his ear, so he took a turn when available and continued at full speed, not having stopped once since he turned the engine on back at the Citadel. 

Loqi came out through a crowd at the station, while the police moved trying to get a hold of him. Getting to the exit, he rolled more accidentally than on purpose avoiding raining cops, and went down on his ankles while still moving to go underneath one, managing to dodge them all and getting to the stairs; on rollers as he was, he once more rolled onto his hands, fell on feet and jumped again onto hands enough times until he was at the top of the staircase, where he staggered a bit, but then laughed and put the hands up.  
“Hey!” he cheered as if to celebrate the mere fact of going upstairs in such acrobatic way. However, before he could celebrate more, he heard the distant roar of the engine, so he cursed under his breath and decided to keep going, putting a hand to his hat to keep it in place while he gained speed. 

Already feeling the tiredness of skating, Loqi thought quickly and decided which way to take. He went into an alleyway Cor would be unable to follow through, and sped up. Being radioed, Cor took different routes to get as close as possible to the place where they thought Loqi was heading to. Clarus, in the Intel room, saw the streets and tried to think of how DeMasque thought in his head.  
“He’s going to take the freeway at the height of twentieth-fourth Street and the Obitum tower” Clarus radioed, and so, Cor complied, taking his own route.

Loqi, into alleyways and inner streets rather than out where cars could follow, kept dashing in the direction of the freeway through a shortcut he had previously prepared. Soon enough, after going through alleyways and between buildings, he got to a back alley with a fence that separated it from the freeway, and next to it, a ramp he had set up way earlier. Taking speed and making sure he was going to land as safe as possible, Loqi went up the ramp and took the impulse to jump past the fence, tried to keep balance as he fell, and he landed on the freeway.  
“He’s headed south” Clarus said as soon as Loqi took a direction on the freeway, going in the same direction than the cars that went past him; as he was in the middle, the cars didn’t have to move out of the way to avoid him. 

Cor, on the bike, was some streets behind on the opposite direction, before he took an exit and turned a couple times to turn around. He entered the highway though an opening that was very much not an entrance to it, and sped up.  
Hearing the distant noise of the bike, Loqi looked behind and saw a truck on his right side. He looked back ahead and kept going, attentive, and when the truck was almost past him, he grabbed to its edge, moved to be behind it, and he let it drag his weight on the rollers, needing no more for high speed than keep holding to the truck.

Cor moved flawlessly side to side to avoid cars as he sped past them like he had never before raced, leaning his weight to the necessary side whenever needed to not hit a car and leave it behind. Soon enough, he saw the unmissable sight of Loqi, in the bright, colorful costume, holding to the back of the truck.  
Speeding up enough, but not too much so to avoid whatever trap Loqi had ready, Cor started getting closer. 

After a moment, he was soon close enough to almost be at a hand’s reach. He kept going, slowly catching up, getting close to the side-behind of the truck, he was soon close enough that Loqi caught sight of him by the corner of his eye and turned to look at him. Cor tried to remain cool, not do anything too sudden (and much to his anger, also nothing that could result in either of them injured), he got a steady speed to stay next to Loqi, he stretched a hand-  
-and Loqi let go of the truck at an exit, turning into it and trying not to fall due to the high speed. 

Cor put his hand back on the bike and kept going only for a moment, before seeing there were no cars behind him and turning a bit too roughly to turn back, nearly making the bike fall on its side (and him with it, mind you), but kept going as soon as he recovered. He sped up again, the engine roaring, and he kept going back, deciding to not use the exit as he had no clear opening, and instead, he used the inclined wall as a ramp to jump out of the freeway and into the streets of Insomnia.

“Where is he, Clarus?” Cor asked into his helmet, looking attentively to the sidewalks and everywhere, not only for a sign of him but at people’s reactions, because they always reacted to the man in circus costume some way or another.  
“Turn right” he did “and get off the bike, he’s gone into an alleyway but he’s taking the rollers off.”

And that he did. Cor went into the street, and when he saw the alleyway Clarus described, Cor braked a bit too hard, so much that he just let the bike slide onto its side as he, once it was slow enough, jumped off it and went into the alleyway by feet.  
“Marshal!” Loqi cheered when they made eye contact, holding to a rope. Before Corwas close enough, Loqi took out a pocket knife and cut another rope nearby, and so the one he was holding went up at high speed.

Instead of following, Cor took his helmet off to not suffocate as he was about to get into a chase by feet, and used the shoulder radio to send orders to the rest of the police.  
“He went to the roof of the building at the Rogue Queen intersection with Etro boulevard, make a perimeter at two hundred meters from the spot, and deploy three squads into V position to cover the buildings within the perimeter” he ordered, and like that, he dashed off to another building other than the one Loqi had gone, or pretended to go to.

DeMasque was at the roofs. His figure was a silhouette in the night that jumped from roof to roof, sometimes just mildly lightened by the moonlight, his silver mask reflecting it as he made the most out of his acrobatics.  
At one of the roofs, after landing and rolling, he stood up and looked around until spotting the nearest drone watching him.  
“Hey!” he greeted and pointed at it with both hands, grinning. Back where the crowd was together near the Citadel, and in the homes of people who were watching as if though this was a TV show, they laughed or cheered for him. 

And being in the middle of a chase, DeMasque still took the time to pull off a bit of the dance moves from that music video he agreed to dance for. Even though he was far from where the speakers were blasting his theme off, he still danced hoping to be at a good timing, and just enjoying of it.  
That was, until some police units appeared at the roof and started going towards him. 

Turning over his heels dramatically as if a dance move, Loqi turned to face them and stayed still for a moment. Then, he took his hands out of his coat, and threw something to the floor. The police lost sight of him when the balls exploded into colorful clouds with glitter in them, but, with their orders, they didn’t let that become a distraction and each of them tackled a different part of the smoke, while some others rounded it and kept going.

Loqi jumped to the roof next door, close enough to not need to roll, and kept running. For a moment, the chase was a roof chase, where the Phantom Thief laughed as he jumped roof to roof, sometimes using poles on the corners to turn around and change direction unexpectedly. Getting to a new roof, he stopped for a moment to tie a rope to the edge of the building, apparently to go down; however, as the police appeared behind him, he didn’t go down the rope and instead turned to a side, running and taking a new route.  
After a few roofs, the next one was too low. He, however, jumped off at the corner, and held to the pipeline at the wall to slide down until making a safe landing at the next roof. From another one a new group of officers appeared, but Loqi kept going, jumping and putting his hands on the railing to jump to a new roof, and running as fast as ever.

At some point, Loqi put a hand to the railing and jumped past it, but instead of letting go, he kept holding to the railing, swung to a side, held to the corner, and jumped off to the roof to a side instead of ahead, rolling to land safely. He heard more cops after him, and he kept going.  
Then, at a building, he jumped off the roof but didn’t get to the next one; instead, he aimed to a windowsill; he held to it, and slipped into the open window, getting inside the building.

While the cops radioed to update on his status, Loqi kept going in a straight line through an open door, another one, and an open window, from which he jumped out and into another window of the building next door. He repeated this for a couple buildings, until, finally, at one of them he found the police already waiting for him.  
Loqi stood at the room he had broken into and gave the squad inside a smug smile.  
“You don’t wanna do that” he smiled.

The police just charged after him, not engaging in conversation. Loqi pulled out his retractable pole again, and he started fighting the police off. Truth be told, he was not the most skilled in combat; if he hadn’t been caught that was because he was sneaky and smart, not particularly physically skilled or strong…but he had been practicing. The Marshal had inspired him, so he had practiced to fight him off if needed.  
And like that, Loqi put his skill to work, and he started fighting the officers off. He got his hat pulled off once, and grabbed by the arm once, but he used the pole to keep them at bay; hit them to make them fall, stopped them, used it to get away from his face a hand that tried to grab the mask, and all in all he kept turning around swinging his weapon as best as he could to get everyone off him.

Finally, after a while of a fight, he sneakily moved down to the floor to avoid a hit, in the same swift movement grabbed his hat from the floor, and in another smooth movement he rolled between an officer’s legs and out the room, and he stood up to dash his way away, laughing, not having had the need to defeat them all to escape.

Like he had done before, he found an open window and jumped out of it and into another building. He avoided the few officers there and got to another window. The next door’s window was closed, so from his spot he tossed a few heavy balls that way to break it, and then jumped into it.  
After a while of going building to building, Loqi found one that led nowhere, so he turned into a large hallway and ran through it. However, a few officers appeared from a corner, blowing their whistles and running to him. He looked back, and a few more were coming from there.

Loqi looked behind him and found a window, so he quickly opened it, and he jumped off, and grabbed a rope that was hanging right outside it, as if someone had prepared it for him and he was there very much on purpose. The officers got to the window just as he was jumping off, seeing him swing forth…and then back; not having expected him to not let go of the rope, Loqi took the impulse to swing back into the building, and he chimed in heel first to kick one of the cops in the face, knocking him out and down, and letting go, rolling, and running through the adjacent hallway, laughing at both the officer thrown behind in the hallway and the cops that he knew had been waiting in the building next door, having tricked them once more.

After a few change of buildings, Loqi opened a window and found another of his ropes waiting. Instead of swinging, he held to it and started climbing up almost effortlessly. He kept going, eyes locking on another open window- suddenly, a hand in fingerless gloves came from that window and grabbed the rope.  
With a gasp, Loqi let himself slide down it, but stopped when he saw more cops underneath. Looking back up, he saw as Cor jumped off the window and landed on a windowswill, holding between buildings as they were close enough, and looked down at the thief.

Thinking for only a moment, unable to go up or down, Loqi swung as best as he could forwards, and he jumped off the rope, aiming for the floor a couple meters below. He managed to land safely, rolling, and staggering only a bit before he was already up on his feet again and running.  
Wasting no time, Cor slid down the rope quickly and let go to land on his feet, and he rushed after him.

Cor ran after Loqi for a couple of alleyways. Like usual, the Thief tried to take sharp turns to make him lose sight of him, but Cor, trained all too well after years of the same crap, managed to always catch up with him and missing out for only a few meters. In an alleyway, Loqi used the trick of throwing down the bins that he found in the way; Cor dodged and jumped past them flawlessly, too acquainted with these moves to know every trick. In one of the alleyways, Loqi tried to receive him with that sticky substance that made Cor slip; he flipped a bin that contained all of it, clearly prepared forehand and having planned they would cross this way; however, both being careful and firm, and in his new high-tech fabric costume, Cor just kept going as easily.

With a bit of a gasp, Loqi hesitated, turned around, and kept going. Cor chased after him, avoiding anything that got in the way. Loqi turned twice just in time before Cor could catch him, but Cor kept going, losing sight of him only for a few seconds.  
Seconds that were enough for Loqi to grab Cor’s motorcycle, pull it up, get on it, and turn it on, as the keys had stayed in.  
When Cor took the turn, he found Loqi hopping onto the bike and waving at him, and then starting the engine.

Cor knew they had just gone around in a big circle around the perimeter. He kept his ear gadget to know where and how Loqi was moving. So he wasn’t surprised when they were back where they started…he just hadn’t thought about Loqi stealing his fucking bike.

As Loqi, laughing that horrible, mischievous laugh, dashed away on the bike, Cor looked behind him and got in the middle of the street when he watched someone else on a bike about to pass by. He put a palm up and took his badge out from a pocket.  
“ICPD, I need your bike!” he exclaimed as soon as the civilian stopped. Startled as anyone would be, the user got off the bike as quickly. Without more an explanation, Cor hopped onto the bike and sped as fast as it allowed him to go.

“Clarus” Cor called and that was all that he needed to say. Soon enough, the Chief was telling him where DeMasque was at and where it seemed that he was going to, and led Cor to take turns to catch up as best as possible through shortcuts and other passages. 

And for a good while, it went back to being a chase, this time the two of them each on a bike. The drones tried to follow as best as possible, as did the police’s cameras that kept track on them both. This time, as Cor’s motorcycle, the one he had first, was tracked by the police, they could get an even easier view of where Loqi was headed, even better than the tiny camera he wore on the mask. They could see him as a blue little dot on the map as he moved and took different streets, so him stealing the bike turned out to make it an easier chase for Clarus to lead Cor through.

On the stolen police sports bike, Loqi sped like a bolt through the streets and the freeway, taking mostly long routes and streets and barely any turns.  
“He’s gone back to the freeway, headed north” Clarus guided Cor through the radio, and so, Cor sped up and tried to catch up with the tiny criminal, taking different streets before finding an entrance to the freeway. 

Both motorcycles roared through the main freeway of Insomnia, one after the other, speeding past the rest of the cars and being the entertainment of half the city that were at the edge of their seats watching the chase. Only by mere magic Loqi’s hat didn’t fall off, him trying to keep the head low for it to stay in place. Meters behind, Cor followed trying to be careful but fast at the same time.  
The two tilted their weights to the side when necessary, making the bikes lean before setting them straight again. Loqi laughed out loud as he kept riding, whereas Cor just stayed blank, completely focused on catching up.

After a long while at the freeway, Loqi suddenly turned harshly, the tires screeching against the asphalt, and having to put a foot down for a moment for the bike’s weight to not win and betray him, and sped to a side.  
“Right, now!” Cor heard in his ear gadget, so he, just as Loqi, repeated the motion seconds after him and kept going for him. Loqi took an unexpected turn, having slowed down as they were back in the city’s streets; Cor felt forced to do the same as he kept going straight. “Keep going, keep going” so Cor did. “And left!”

Cor and Loqi drove through different streets, separating only as Clarus figured DeMasque’s route and made Cor’s route intersect with it. Each time that Cor managed to get close or behind, Loqi took another turn and the chase continued, on a constant counterpoint, come and go of the riders dancing through the streets.  
After a couple more streets, Cor caught up behind Loqi and tried speeding up enough. Loqi, however, suddenly took a harsh turn that made him drop to a lower-leveled street, like a little tunnel for civilians that went under ground level. 

Cursing under his breath, Cor went straight to not get startled and slow down, and left it up to Clarus, who tracked DeMasque and told him where to go to catch up again.  
Loqi, on the underground passage, sped up enough until getting to the ramp out, having the bike jump slightly and struggling a tiny bit at keeping it steady when it landed before speeding again. Back in the streets and back to where he started, he stumbled upon more officers. He turned into streets to avoid the blockades, and gave his best at dodging whatever officer on another motorcycle or by feet he stumbled upon. 

A few minutes later, while Loqi rode a boulevard, suddenly, out of nowhere and through an alleyway, Cor jumped out from and caught up, riding right next to him. Instinctively, Loqi braked, losing control for a bit, before turning to the other side, using the foot, and completing a full turn to head back, only to need to turn again when he found police cars starting a new blockade. Turning around with fewer struggles and more thoughtfully, Cor turned and followed promptly. 

The two kept going for a while, until reaching the avenue next to the city’s largest river. The thief and the cop rode next to it on a straight line, one trying to catch up with the other, until, at some point, Loqi took a few turns, and he let the bike crash into a fence door, slamming through it and taking a ramp down to a lower level usually used only for water system maintainance and some boat issues. Not thinking, Cor followed, decided to get to the very end of this.

When Cor caught up, he saw as Loqi turned into a large entrance to the sewers. Making the bike roar, he went after him, not minding the little stream of water and hoping it wouldn’t be a nuisance. The chase inside was rather shorter than Cor expected, as Loqi, perhaps not having planned this, sooner than later found out that the sewer system became messy the more he went into it, as well as narrower, fine for people by feet but definitely not for someone on a motorcycle. 

Cor had thought this could be a great end to it, as being in tunnels would lead Loqi to inevitably become cornered; Cor would just need to be there when Loqi turned around and tried leaving, and stand in front of him and not move. Whatever Loqi was, he wasn’t into this to get Cor or anyone truly harmed, so he wouldn’t have the heart to run over him on the bike. Loqi would very much rather fight than try that. 

However, ready as Cor was for the moment, he didn’t get the chance. He followed through some tunnels, and finally, when Loqi came upon a wall, he kept going, braked and turned in a swift movement, the bike climbing for a second onto the wall at the sudden harsh turn, and he dashed past Cor, right next to his side, the bikes scratching one another.  
“Fuck” Cor muttered, braking as well and turning around. 

After a minute or two, Loqi was dashing out with the bike again, the tires screeching once more as he avoided falling into the water out of the speed and went back to the ramp. A few seconds later, Cor was coming from the same hole and chasing as best as he could manage, not losing sight of him and speeding up.

It continued like before, with Loqi taking different turns through the street and avoiding the police. At some point, as he was laughing having left behind some officers, he looked at the gas.  
“Aw, shucks” he said to himself, and more honestly, to the camera he wore on the mask. “I was having fun!”  
“Seems like DeMasque’s going to drop it and go by feet soon” Cor heard the chief in his ear. “He’s running out of gas.”

Cor sped up at that info. He turned into the streets as Clarus told him to, avoiding obstacles, the people watching and gasping as he sped past, and full focus on his task.  
Soon, he heard Clarus tell him into which alley Loqi had gone to, so he sped into it. Right on time, Loqi was just getting off the bike, letting it drop on the floor as he held to his hat, stumbled a few steps, and ran away. Cor hopped off the bike to let it drop as well, seeing as he wasn’t going to be able to make it jump past the other bike, not even turning it off or anything as he just jumped off it, past the other bike, and ran after Loqi. 

Loqi turned into a couple more alleyways before coming out through one of them into the street. Cor went after him and turned to find Loqi jumping onto a seat, the table, and then jump off onto a store’s awning nearby. Instead of following right behind, Cor ran a bit, then turned, and took the emergency staircase for a moment, jumped to the wall of the other building, holding with feet and hands to the ledges, and started climbing it as he had been practicing for so many months.

Suddenly, as he hopped past the roof’s railing, so did Loqi at almost the same time from the other side of the building. The Thief flinched in place and looked at him.  
“Marshal!” he greeted cheerfully. “What a _nice_ bike, Astrals!” he laughed. “Boy, I hope it’s okay, I rarely get the chance to ride one and that one was _so_ smooth!”  
“DeMasque” Cor greeted as he took out one of his stun guns and pointed at him. “Give up.”  
“Is that a stun gun, rubber bullets, or is it like…a gun-gun?” Loqi asked as he put his palms up and pointed at the gun with a finger. “Because you must know, I’m kind of allergic to real bullets.”

Cor shot, but Loqi moved out of the way just barely, and tried running off. Cor dropped that one gun and went after him. As Loqi jumped off to the next roof, Cor jumped after him, decided to not fear to harm either of them and having it calculated, so that he tackled DeMasque mid air. The hit made them both fall onto the next roof and roll each on their own with a groan, both quickly trying to recover; Cor grabbed Loqi’s ankle, the thief fell again, kicked him off and rolled away as Cor tried grabbing him again, and both were standing up soon. 

Cor took out his dual retractable sticks. Loqi took out his retractable staff and tried putting it up for defense. Cor got ready, putting the guard up, and decided to let Loqi take the first move as to not fall in any of his traps because Cor, always hot-headed, went ahead first. Loqi, catching the drift, made an unnecessary flashy movement, swinging the staff around, twirling in his place, and then, as he turned over himself dramtically, he got closer to Cor. The Marshal put the sticks on a cross in front of him for protection once Loqi was inches from him.  
The thief finished one of his turns and faced him, putting a fist up. Cor got ready for an attempt of a hit.  
Instead, Loqi opened his palm and blowed on it, and a cloud of glitter attacked Cor’s eyes.

The cop stumbled a bit backwards with a hiss at the sudden blindless, letting go of the sticks to start cleaning his eyes. With his mischievous laugh, Loqi put the baton back into a tiny stick and in his pocket, and he dashed away. Rubbing his eyes, Cor growled and cursed in his spot for a moment, before forcing himself to open the eyes, still itchy, but decided to not waste time.  
When he looked, Loqi was already going to the other building; a taller one, so he threw himself at the wall, holding to the ledges and whatever bit he found, and climbing up them like he so famously did.

Cor frowned and pouted. He grabbed his sticks, retracted them and put them back in their easily accessible sheaths, and went after him. Oh, DeMasque could go to whatever roof he wanted, or do his parkour and building climbing all he wanted…Cor would follow. Because he had practiced.  
Just as Loqi had spent months training his combat skills to match up to Cor, Cor spent those months training at agility and mostly building climbing as was Loqi’s specialty, and he was much more than just ready to go after him and climb as magically and skillfully as the thief.

Running after him, Cor jumped to the wall as well, holding to a pole that stuck out of it, and pulling himself up until he was standing on it, looking up for another thing to hold to and keep going, while Loqi climbed up some meters above him.  
Like a pair of trained stunt actors, the two started going up almost effortlessly, or at least they made it look like that. Holding to whatever was available on the side of the building, the two stood on little or large ledges, jumped off to windowsills, and held to whatever came across the way up. 

Soon enough, the two reached the roof. Loqi was first, and he dashed away as soon as he was on it. Cor followed onto the roof shaped like an upside-down V, and just as he was getting to Loqi, Loqi got to the other side and let himself slide down. Cor mimicked, and chased as Loqi dashed away along the edge of the roof.  
At some point, Cor took out his rope with a hook and aimed at Loqi’s feet. The thief kept running, unaware, and so Cor threw it. Loqi stumbled upon the hook a bit, staggering, and getting to stay on his feet for a moment before Cor pulled, making him fall this time. However, in one same movement, Loqi kicked the hook off his ankle and rolled off the edge, just as Cor was getting on him.

Startled from the movement, Cor looked down to see where he had landed.  
Loqi rested on a thick glass canopy with lights underneath, on the floor below. He smiled up at Cor and waved a hand, and rolled again, stood up, and ran across the canopy in a different direction. Cursing under his breath, Cor took a new direction as well to where Loqi was headed, not minding losing sight of him for a moment and thinking as clearly as he could guessing where he would go to next.  
Cor jumped down a few half-levels on the roof, then jumped off and held to a short metal ladder to land near the level of the canopy, and just in time saw Loqi run into the building through a service door. Cor, aware of where they were and figuring out what Loqi would do, ran around the building instead of following behind.

Inside, Loqi ran for a few hallways before finding another door and going through it, running into a second level of a casino. He looked to his left and smiled, very ready for the stunt he had prepared and practiced but not pulled off at the actual show scene, excited, thrilled to go for it. 

“I need officers north and west of the building” Cor radioed through breaths as he slid down another set of stairs at a side of the building, hurrying. “Eyes on the windows!”

Inside the casino, Loqi saw his target, and with determination in the eyes, he started running towards it.  
The casino was all a low level, where the second one was just decorative and for roof access, open, being but a large hallway that rounded the building, with view to the lower level. 

Loqi ran as fast as he could for impulse, gotten as close to the edge as possible, and jumped with as much impulse as possible, let himself flow on the air for a moment, and grabed to one of the chandelier’s arms, swinging forth as much as he could stretch it.  
People gasped and screamed below on the first floor, surprised and taken off guard. People either ran away of the middle of the room or/and looked up at the intruder and the sudden action.  
With people gasping and yelling underneath him, Loqi enjoyed of the attention and laughed a bit, and so, he measured when the chandelier was at its peek height to the other side, swung the legs like it was a trapeze, he let go and swung in the air until he managed to land, a bit not very right, at the other side of the second level.

He laughed as he rolled onto his feet again, took out one of the metal balls, and tossed it through a window.  
“There he is!” the police hurried as they saw the glass break and approached the zone.  
And Loqi, of course, broke a second, and a third window, the police hesitating and not knowing which to pay attention to, and, once startled, Loqi broke a fourth window and jumped out of it, holding to his hat, and falling almost majestically in among the rain of crystals.

Landing more safely this time, Loqi rolled once and started dashing away again.  
With the police following promptly, Loqi laughed and turned into more streets and alleyways as was so usual from his chases. He recurred to classic and new tricks to escape from the police; to avoid some of them, DeMasque used bombs of colorful smoke to turn to an unexpected direction. As some cops ran his way, he suddenly reached down for something, pulled out a rope made out of tied colorful handkerchiefs, and made them stumble upon it. The one that had people cheering the most was when, at some point, DeMasque kept running to a bunch of officers, and, once close, he jumped in an unrealistic way at unrealistic height, and even though logic said he had to be held by stunt wires, there were none to be seen neither on his clothes or the air, so as people cheered, the officers were too distracted looking for the wires, that DeMasque simply kept running.

Cor, of course, didn’t stay behind. Guided by his intelligence, thorough planning on thinking like DeMasque, and the help from his ear gadget, he appeared soon through an alleyway DeMasque was genuinely not expecting; staggering upon his place and turning around, Loqi took a new route but kept dashing fast enough to keep distance with the Marshal.

Soon enough, Loqi ran straight towards a building’s façade. Even before Loqi was doing his acrobatics, Cor radioed as he still ran after him.  
“He’s about to go to the roofs again, may be preparing his final disappearance, I need _everyone_ on their positions and sharper than ever!” he said as exalted as never before, though still in full focus, and kept going.  
Just as he foretold, Loqi jumped to a closed window, turned around, took the impulse to jump towards the metallic hallway on top and held backwards to it, turned around, and pushed himself up.

Cor cursed under his breath as he caught up and rounded the building; as much as he had practiced the past months, Loqi’s parkour skills were beyond his level, and that was something he wasn’t able to do and wouldn’t waste time at trying or finding out. However, he was still skilled, so as soon as he found an easier (“easier”) access, he jumped onto a window and took the impulse to propel himself up to hold to a different ledge, and kept going until reaching the roof.

Once he was there, he found DeMasque already at the other end of the roof and jumping past the railing, towards the next door building. Losing no time, Cor ran after him as agile as the thief.  
It took only a few roofs before Cor was catching up. It wasn’t a lineal chase; some roofs had multiple levels, some were inclined, there was a wide diversity to make out of the chase something, to Loqi, fun, and to Cor, dynamic and annoying. 

After getting to a corner of a roof and starting to climb up the ledges to get to the higher level, Loqi let out his mischievous, perhaps even maniac laugh as Cor climbed after him.  
“I’m surprised you can last so long without tiring, Marshal!” Loqi cheered him on as Cor finished climbing a ledge after him. “And _very_ delighted.”  
“Wish I could say the same about you” was all that Cor replied, before he tried throwing an unexpected kick at him, aiming to either knock him out or make him dizzy or knock the mask off; Loqi, last minute, bent backwards just enough to avoid him, but staggered and was nearly caught before he dodged him, laughed, and ran again.

Just as Cor was catching up again, he saw Loqi was going straight for a void, as the closest building was literally too far for a jump, acrobatic as it could be. However, he knew Loqi better so he didn’t slow down, listing at least ten ways he would jump off somehow.  
And Loqi went for the only one he hadn’t used before, perhaps due to the complexity of it.  
Wasting only a few seconds once he reached the edge of the roof, Loqi bent down to grab something, attached it to his chest, and suddenly, he jumped off the roof.

Still not startled, Cor kept going his way, waiting…and then, startling him a little, Loqi was soon in sight again, almost already at the other building, as he had used a rope to make a large swing to it.  
Cor stopped at the edge and looked up. It was a very much well prepared rope swing, like the ones they had at certains natural parks, or like some lovers of adrenaline set in canyons and whatnot, just not so crazy. Cor sighed, a little frustrated, and watched as Loqi got to the other roof and detached the rope from himself. Fuck, the guy had it so planned, and Cor couldn’t cut the mechanism because he really, really, really, really, _really_ wanted to catch Loqi, but not kill him…!

Angry at himself and cursing, Cor grabbed one of the ropes and pulled until the main one was back at a hand’s reach, grabbed it, held tightly to it, and swung to the other building, chasing and not planning on giving up.  
As he reached the other roof, he found Loqi bent and breathing a bit heavily, taking a break. He turned when he heard Cor land some meters behind him. Laughing, Loqi looked away and once more took off running.  
“I’m getting tired!” he heard DeMasque say, and Cor wasn’t sure if it was meant for him, for the public through the camera, or to all. 

Only a roof later, and Cor found the same stupid trick waiting; this time, he didn’t hesitate and took the second rope (a fucking second rope because the fucking bastard fucking planned for Cor to fucking follow, my _gods,_ how Cor hated the tiny little bastard brat!!) and threw himself off only seconds after Loqi, the two little figures against the dark sky and the bright moon crossing the sight one after the other on a half circle.

The same rope mechanism happened a third time, but Cor still followed, heart pounding and breath already a bit heavy, but still not giving up. He chased DeMasque for a bit more, until they got to a section with roofs much closer to each other again.  
Cor saw as Loqi got to another edge, and there, he climbed up onto a rope, this time not to swing, but to cross it like a tight rope.  
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me” Cor breathed out as he hurried after him. However, when he reached the edge of the roof, Loqi was already steps far enough to be out of a hand’s reach.

Cor stopped there, startled, and watching Loqi’s hesitant steps on the rope that _moved_ under his soles. At some point, Loqi turned around. Cor started slowly putting his hands up, watching with slightly wide eyes. Then, when Loqi was facing him, he suddenly leaned too much to a side, arms flailing, looking like about to fall for real; Cor flinched in place and let out some noise, hands moving as if wanting to do something or to reach for him.  
Recovering balance…apparently on purpose…Loqi looked at him and laughed, before just tilting the head and letting out an ‘Aaw’ sound.  
“You worried that I’d fall” he said in a whine like it was the cutest thing he had seen in the world. Cor blinked at him and tensed. Loqi put his hands to his chest, standing on the freaking tight rope like it was nothing. “That’s _so_ cute of you, Marshal.”

After a moment standing startled, Cor frowned, realizing the idiot was just making fun of him, and he started taking some steps back. Loqi tensed and laughed with a little ‘Oops’, turned around, and hurried across the rest of the tight rope.  
Just as he got to the other side, Cor ran as fast as he could to the edge and jumped; he didn’t land on the roof as itself, and rather, he crashed onto the edge, holding to the roof with his arms, and needing to push himself up grunting out loud, wasting some moments, but not as much as he would have wasted on the tight rope, as that was a skill he lacked.

While he chased Loqi through the roofs, he noticed they were back near the Citadel. He could hear again the cheering crowd and see the Citadel close.  
So Loqi had planned to make a full circle around it and end up here. So, it was dangerous being here. It meant that Loqi was close to the end of his act.  
Cor’s time was running out.

Speeding up, Cor chased after him, trying to think before him to be at the right place at the right moment, but Loqi was too sneaky, and even when he caught up, the little bastard managed to dodge him or trick him and end up sneaking away like a rabbit.  
Near a roof, Loqi approached a zipline that couldn’t have been more obviously set up for him forehand; he took out one of his magic-trick handkerchiefs, hooked it around the zipline, and let himself slide through it. 

Once more, Cor didn’t bring himself to cutting it, because even if the actual height would not kill Loqi, it would still hurt him and he wasn’t up for him ending up in hospital. Bruises and bleeding was fine, it was part of the job, but that was if he couldn’t help it, and it definitely didn’t involve making his charge fall off a couple stories. So, instead, wasting no time and not hesitating, Cor took his paracord, hooked it around the zipline without expanding it, and followed, trying for his weight to lean forwards for speed.  
“He’s close, I’m heading in” Clarus radioed Cor, as they had already agreed that if they got near Loqi’s final act (easy to tell as he normally bid goodbye after a roof chase), Clarus would intervene as well, leaving someone else tracking through the cameras to guide Cor.

Giving a quick reply only, Cor decided to take Loqi as close to one of the police’s own traps as possible, thinking of how to corner him, as he still chased him, jumping from roof to roof.  
After a while, Loqi got to the edge of a roof that led to an avenue, and hence a ‘dead’ end, and he turned around on his heels to face Cor. He took his hat off, waved it as if to say goodbye, and jumped off the edge without looking.

Cor didn’t falter and didn’t even feel surprised. Oh no. He had seen this trick too many times to be surprised, and he wouldn’t let the image of Loqi jumping into the void startle him ever again. In fact, he knew the trick so well, he would ruin it.  
Cor hurried to the ledge, and instead of looking down to see where he had gone to, he immediately found a rope painted dark colors to blend into the scenery, and pulled from it as hard as he could.

Some meters below, Loqi, holding to the rope, lost the balance he always had and, with the rope being pulled, instead of swiftly swinging to a side of the building to disappear into it, he spun over himself and crashed against the wall, groaning out at the hit.  
“Got ya!” Cor exclaimed between clenching teeth, peeking down, and so, he put his soles firmly one against the roof’s edge and the other behind, and he started pulling the rope up with all the strength of his arms. 

With a gasp, Loqi looked up as Cor pulled the rope, and him holding to it. Loqi looked down and around quickly, and so, decided to not let Cor grab him, he let go of the rope with a little jump and held to a ledge; a ledge for his feet, and another one to hold to. Cor still finished pulling the rope up to get it completely out of Loqi’s reach, but cursed under his breath and watched him. Loqi started moving along the ledges, slowly and carefully, but moving out of anyone’s reach, as he wasn’t neither on roof or a canopy or stairs of the ground, but holding to the side of a building.

Cor did his mental math in a blink; the ledges were too narrow for Loqi to use as impulse to go up, and hence, dangerous to go down, so he was most likely just going to stay on that floor, and counting mentally his pattern…  
“I need someone on the fourth window, facing east, fifth floor, in a minute, now!” Cor radioed, as he turned around and left somewhere else.

Loqi kept moving along the ledges of the side of the building, until finally reaching the corner. He kept moving through the ledge, ignoring the windows impossible to be opened. Then, just as he reached one of those that could be pulled open, a cop suddenly popped out of it ready to grab him in arms; at the same time he popped out, Loqi bent backwards so much, that he just kept going until dropping backwards completely, raising his arms above his head, and completing a slow backward flip where instead of jumping he just let gravity do the job; he held to the windowsill below, and finished dropping, hitting the window with the soles and slightly cracking it under his weight. With a little snicker at the move, Loqi repeated it, more smoothly this time, dropping yet another level, and then he kept going to a side and jumped to the building next door; he let himself drop to the emergency staircase, and quickly pulled up the metal stairs right before the squad of officers at ground level could reach it, taking it away of their reach and laughing at them as they just stood belod, frustrated. He went upstairs quickly a few levels, and then jumped to the emergency ladder instead of the stairs.

Soon enough, Loqi was climbing up, hands and feet on the ladder as he went up and up. Once he was close to the roof, he let go of the ladder with a hand and a foot, and he faced the street, opening his arm and holding to the ladder with just a sole and his other hand. He took off his hat and waved it in the air.  
“Insomnia!” he cheered. “My final act!”

Cor, a few buildings away, felt his heart skip a beat and he panicked for a second, feeling he was already running out of time. He received Intel’s info on where and how DeMasque was moving and tried tracing a mental map to try to figure out where he would say goodbye and catch up before Loqi got there.

Loqi kept going up the ladder until finally reaching the roof. Once there, as they were close enough to the Citadel again, he was once again at earshot of his own music theme, that kept playing. Free and with no cops around, Loqi took a moment to enjoy of the music.  
He started dancing to the music. Using the choreography from that one music video he was invited to, he pulled off his dance moves cheekily and shamelessly. He heard the crowd start cheering, which did but motivate him to keep going, despite him being already visibly tired.

A moment later, as he danced, a bunch of officers of Special Forces started appearing by the edges of the roof.  
Because someone had forehand locked the doors and blocked the paths for common cops, the Special Forces had used their technology to climb up the sides of the buildings with tools that made it faster and easier than Loqi’s acrobatic moves. So, soon enough, the police Chief and multiple officers in tighter, sportier suits started appearing at the roof. 

Almost as if it hadn’t surprised him, Loqi kept dancing in his spot, moving a step to a side and a step to the other, hips swinging and fingers snapping, almost like he was either enjoying it too much or making fun of the cops, or both.  
“Get him!” chief Clarus commanded, pointing at him, and so, the bunch of elite officers ran towards him.

With a little chuckle, Loqi kept swinging in his spot.  
And so, as the officers rained on him, he started dodging them with smooth, nearly choreographed moves, agile and swift like a feline. In smooth movements he dodged as many officers as rained on him, at the time he fought others off; down to avoid a tackle, in the same movement, to a side to avoid a stun gun shot, then up and immediately jump slightly to avoid a stick attempting to knock him off, turn around mid air and smack away another stick, and so on and on, moving like this seemed as if he had it all planned or like it didn’t take the slightest effort from him.

After a while avoiding officers, Loqi found an opening, sneaked through them, and dashed away to a nearby roof. He jumped towards it, and kept escaping with the elite squad following close.  
That was until he reached a roof, where another team appeared spread through all other three edges. He stood still for a moment, looking to a side, to another, and then behind him to the first team that was catching up.  
Soon enough, Loqi found himself cornered, looking from a team to another, and turning around, looking as if truly caught this time.

The crowd contained the breath as they watched the scene from the screens.  
“Now!”  
At the order, all teams surrounding DeMasque ran his way and threw themselves at him. There was a huge collective gasp from the crowd, and then either silence or some yelps as if though they had seen a murder or something as shocking, while watching DeMasque’s figure disappear under the rain of cops and as the officers keep piling up and throwing themselves to the same pile to keep the thief well trapped and asphyxiating undearneath them, going and going and struggling, becoming but a pile of flailing limbs. 

“We’ve got him cuffed!” someone announced, and so, the pile of officers started disbanding, little by little, first the ones at the edges, then closer within the circle, people quickly pulling away from the pile, less and less officers, reaching closer to the centre of it, about to pull the thief off the ground, the last couple officers grabbed the last figure on the floor by the arms, pulled him up on his feet-

-and the screens showed a very confused and angered chief Clarus, his clothes having suddenly turned the same green as Loqi’s coat, cuffed and held in place by his own team.  
“I kept telling you, he’s gone, he’s gone!!” Clarus roared at his squad, angered. The officers stayed shocked and startled in place, not understanding how they could have confused them, how they could have cuffed their own boss, and how DeMasque could have suddenly just vanished in thin air and gotten himself replaced by Clarus, or how he changed the color of his uniform, too shocked to even react at the crowd’s laughter, before the panic made them let go and rush away to try to look for the missing thief.

Meanwhile, as the officers looked around blindly and confused, DeMasque reappeared multiple roofs of distance away, laughing. The cameras tried quickly catching up. He even seemed to wait for them to be close enough before he turned around and ran away again, far from the elite forces.  
When the elite groups tried to follow, they were met with slippery walls that didn’t allow them to climb to the roofs. No matter how hard they held to the ledges or their ropes, they kept slipping down, some substance covering the walls and leaving them completely useless hanging there unable to go up.

With another laugh, Loqi kept going a few roofs more, looking as if though the path was completely clean now…  
…and, then, reaching a large roof, he started slowing down, until completely stopping.

Standing some meters away, Cor stood there, already waiting for him.

Instead of a collective gasp of fear as he thought was going to happen, all that Cor heard was the crowd’s cheering intensifying. He ignored it and put his full focus on Loqi.  
Loqi was looking at him with some genuine surprise, panting, but starting to smile.  
Cor frowned at him. Loqi’s smile kept growing for a bit.

“Marshal” Loqi breathed out, swallowed, and stood straighter. “If I may…you’re in the way to my final bit.”  
“Enough” Cor replied. Then, he pulled out his retractable sticks, and shook them hardly to make them expand full size, holding them at his sides. “Just stop.”

For a moment, it was silent between the two. It almost felt as if though whatever happened next was final, decisive, immense, and as if the two held the choice of how this was going to turn out in the end. They held eye contact for a moment.  
Loqi’s smile turned to a smirk.  
“Oh, Marshal” he said, and so, he pulled out his own retractable staff and let it grow full size, and held it towards the cop. “You don’t want me to stop.”

Cor’s frown deepened.  
Showdown it would be, then.

Cor brought his dual sticks up and got into a defensive position; Loqi raised his staff with both hands and planted his soles on the ground firmly.  
The crowd below at ground level exploded in cheering. 

And so, a few seconds after just staring at each other, the cop and the thief threw themselves at each other, and their final fight started.  
The two moved on both offensive and defensive whenever necessary, mixing the combat style and dancing together in a dance of tension, rivalry, ecstasy and two flaming wills aching desperately for victory. 

Cor threw a stick at him, then the other; Loqi dodged the first by jumping, the second by squatting, and so, finding an opening, he threw a hit with his staff; Cor, in the same movement when he tried to hit Loqi a second time, moved the stick up and stopped him, and tried hitting with the other, which Loqi dodged by taking a step back; Cor swung a stick to his head, which Loqi dodged by moving down just enough, and put the staff right on time as Cor, turning over himself, threw a kick.

The two kept going for a good while in the physical combat. Cor was clearly pulling out some of his best movements, using combinations of the sticks, but also synchronized with his legs as they tried kicking DeMasque’s ankles to throw him down, or up at the face. Loqi, however, kept dodging nearly every move, and whatever he couldn’t avoid didn’t throw him down, and he just kept going. Cor mentally cursed as the fight kept going; it was clear Loqi had caught the drift right away, that Cor was aiming at him too good and too fast to avoid everything, and so, deciding to take the hits that compromised him the less, instead of aiming at avoiding them all, as Cor had hoped he would try, to tire him out and take him off guard with openings, something that clearly was not going to happen.

Cor went full into it, and started swinging both sticks as well as he could handle them, mastering it. Loqi took steps back as Cor went full on attack mode, unable to do anything but stay on the defensive, having to avoid him and his hits, and nearly losing control of his staff at some points.  
When he felt the edge behind his foot, Loqi found an opening, and doged to a side, rolling and standing back up, but Cor was soon on him again, merciless, trying with all his might.

Loqi kept moving backwards for a moment until he found another opening; he used it to smack one of Cor’s sticks away, and tried hitting him; this time, it was the Marshal who had to take a step back, and even though he managed to swing a hit, Loqi dodged and attacked again, making him move once more.  
The fight carried on for longer and longer; both of them attacking, defending, stepping forwards and backwards, going all over the roof. 

Sometimes, Loqi would make unnecessary, flashy turns over himself, as if loving the way his coat’s tail swung. Honestly, Cor believed that more than the idea of Loqi trying to confuse him. The guy was too much of an attention whore and an actor to take it seriously even when he was really taking it seriously.

The two fought aggressive, defensive, each fighting for the victory and none willing to give up. Cor swung his sticks, Loqi flipped and turned his staff, the two turned around and clashed, growling, panting, roaring out as they threw themselves at each other, feet and hands and arms moving all in sync, completely on full focus of each their bodies and the opponent’s. 

At some point, Loqi swung his staff at him; Cor caught it between his sticks, turned over himself, and roared as he pulled and pushed- and like that, he threw Loqi’s staff away of his hands, disarming him; he turned in the same movement, swung a stick, landed a hit on his mask-cheek, Loqi staggered backwards, and Cor tried throwing himself at him; Loqi threw himself at a side, falling down but avoiding him, rushing towards his staff.

Without thinking much, Cor threw his smoke bombs at Loqi.  
Startled, Loqi staggered in his spot, closing his eyes and coughing, not aware that Cor carried with this, lost in the cloud of thick smoke and disappearing from sight.  
And just as he was recovering and blinking, Cor appeared from behind him, and grabbed him; an arm around his torso, and a hand going to his throat, pushing his head back.  
Loqi involuntarily groaned.

And that was it. For a second, Cor stood there, not doing anything. He had Loqi there, he held him in place, he had him right there…but he stood still, hearing Loqi pant. 

Feet wriggling in the air because Cor had picked him up, Loqi suddenly bit down on his hand. Groaning out in pain, Cor let go harshly and stumbled backwards, appearing from the cloud of smoke and falling on his back, instantly trying to recover, while Loqi stumbled forwards and fell on his knees and hands, quickly reached for his staff, and turned around just in time to smack away one of Cor’s attacks with his sticks. 

Recovering and standing up, Loqi returned to the fray as heatedly as before. The crowd cheered as the two kept fighting, everyone with wide eyes staring at the exciting battle as it kept going, watching Cor twirl over his heels, throw slash and slash with his dual sticks, Loqi twisting the staff in hands, moving around as gracefully as his every move, the two moving around each other and giving their best.

At some point, Cor swung his sticks at him; Loqi blocked one, two, three attacks, he stepped back, Cor took an aggressive front attack, four, five, six blocked attacks, and so, at the seventh hit, Loqi swung the staff, twirled it, and made Cor drop one of the sticks; before he could react, Loqi threw a vertical kick to his other hand that sent the other stick flying away and past the roof. The Marshal stood disarmed, tried turning over himself and throw a kick, Loqi stopped it with a forearm, tried grabbing the Marshal by the ankle, it slipped away, Cor hit him on the face, Loqi stepped back, he threw a swing of the staff at him, Cor dodged, thrust the staff, hit him on the stomach once; Loqi turned over himself, hit him on the chest, made him stumble backwards, poked him on the torso, made him keep going backwards, thrust the staff once more against his chest-

And the Marshal fell to the ground, right at the edge of the building. 

While the crowd cheered, time seemed to stop for both of them. Only the sound of the crowd and both thief and cop panting was heard for a moment, nothing moving or happening.

After a moment, Cor pulled his head up, and his weight up on his elbows and forearms. He was panting. With the eyebrows slightly furrowed, he looked up.  
Loqi stood before him. He too was panting, and he looked tired, shoulders dropped, yet his hands still held to his staff, keeping it down.  
The two held eye contact for a moment. Cor didn’t stand up and just watched him with slightly wide eyes, shocked, surprised, not moving and unable to look elsewhere, mouth slightly open.

After a moment of just staring, Loqi smiled at him. Cor’s eyes widened a little, and the look in his gaze turned a little more…frightened.  
Loqi didn’t say anything. He took in a deep, slow breath, contained it, and then slowly released it, as if to calm down or relax.  
Then, he turned his staff back into a little stick, and hung it at his belt. 

Unexpectedly, he approached Cor. Cor could barely move a little back, still thrown, and unable to stand up as Loqi suddenly got on him, the feet at each side of Cor’s hips, and then the thief put his fists at his waist and bent forwards for his face to be closer to Cor’s. The cop swallowed and watched him with fearful, nervous eyes.  
Loqi, in front and on top of him, stared for a moment.  
He smiled again.  
“I win” he whispered. 

And for a moment, that was it and everything. Cor stared as if not having heard, just panting and recovering, looking at each of Loqi’s eyes through the mask. The thief gave him a last smile, stared for a moment more, and then stood back straight. He took a few steps back, and Cor stayed in his spot, thinking the thief was going to turn around and leave.

However, instead of that, Loqi ran a few steps towards him, and then, gracefully, he threw himself forwards as if for a front flip. However, instead of completing it quickly, Loqi held to the edge of the roof, his hands at each side of Cor’s head, and he stood up on his hands, feet reaching for the sky, and face an inch from Cor’s.

The cop stared up at him open mouth and eye widened, not breathing. Loqi, holding his whole weight on his hands, gave him a smile much more different than the other one; closer, gaze loaded of something smoother and more genuine of _something,_ and a smile that could both make fun of him as much as it seemed to purr in softness. Something complex, profound, and something not from DeMasque but from _Loqi._

And so, a few seconds later, as time defroze for them, Loqi completed his flip, letting himself fall past the roof and into the void, and leaving Cor completely alone again, lying on his back and forearms, still staring at the place where Loqi’s face had been just a moment ago. 

After saying in the same spot for a few seconds just panting, getting over the shock, Cor rolled around and looked over the roof’s edge, but, to his distress, he saw no sight of Loqi anywhere. He looked to the sides frantically but saw nothing, so, as his stomach shrank, he radioed.  
“Clarus” he panted out almost hopelessly and needy, desperate for any news, desperate and pleading for a good reply, as if at the edge of breaking if he got a negative answer.

“We’ve lost sight of him” someone in the radio replied. Cor’s heart skipped a breath and he didn’t move from the spot, looking around at the different buildings in the vicinity. Agonizing seconds passed by, five, ten, fourteen long, excruciatingly tortuous seconds that felt like an hour, until, finally, the radio sounded again. “We’ve spotted a large rolled up poster on the north side of the Astral Star hotel, it may be a DeMasque stunt he hasn’t pulled off yet.”

Needing no more info and with the heart racing inside him, Cor pushed himself up on his feet and dashed away to look for the fastest way to that building.

Not long afterwards, they spotted Loqi again. He had jumped off a roof at an unrealistic height, meaning he must have used some sort of trampoline of sorts; his silhouette crossed the sky gracefully, and the people cheered at it. Cor didn’t get distracted and kept running, and he made the mental math and strategy; if Loqi had that rolled up something on that building facing that side, it meant he was probably going to end his show there, which meant he was going to jump off that roof somewhere else; he wouldn’t be caught in that roof as the place where he ended his show was always a distraction and trick while he fled through somewhere else. What was to the sides of the hotel, tall as it was? Thinking thoroughly, Cor thought of Loqi’s only option; a balcony some floors below on the building across the street, an unrealistic jump for anyone but not to this bastard that always ended up in the last place you expected.

So, Cor sped up headed to that building across the hotel.

Meanwhile, Loqi landed at another roof, closer to the crowd and drowning in the cheering. As he ran across that rooftop, the door slammed open and a squad of officers came in, pointing their guns at him, but Loqi, knowing they wouldn’t really shoot, and trusting in his agility, kept going, dodged a pair, and as easy as ever he ran past them. Leaving them with no choice, the police followed behind.

It took only a couple roofs more. The police ran after him some meters behind, DeMasque jumped from roof to roof, and Cor ran below in the streets, not looking up nor getting distracted and with a specific goal in mind.

After a couple roofs, Loqi reached the end of a block and reached another dead end, as his only exit was an avenue way too large that separated the buildings, and so, unable to be at a jump’s reach. And the building across the avenue, the Astrals Star hotel.  
“He may have set a zipline or pulley system, look around” Cor radioed as he kept going after being informed of where Loqi was.  
“Negative, Marshal” the reply came a few moments later. “There are no rope systems anywhere at view.”

So the little shit was going to try something else. Cor tried to think. No rope at view, Loqi was probably going to use the trick of dropping off the edge, where a rope hung from a side of the building, and so not in sight.

Before he could radio his squad, Loqi carefully climbed onto the building’s ledge, and stood on it for a moment. Looking down, the street was full of police cars and the cheering crowd, flashes of photographs and the music still going on.  
“He may jump down to grab to the side of the building, I need officers on the second and…”

But Cor stopped talking and even stopped running when Loqi jumped off the building…and started walking on the air.  
As the crowd roared out louder than before, cheering and clapping like crazy, Cor stopped in the middle of the avenue, some meters away, and watched as Loqi crossed the air by floating. 

Loqi’s legs moved as if he was walking in strides, and every time he ‘stepped’ on nothing, it looked as if he had done so on a soft trampoline that gave him a gentle, slow impulse to move forwards. His legs and arms moved like he was running just like would be normal, except slower and with wider movements, and with nothing in sight that neither served him as steps nor anything that was holding him up. 

The officers that had been chasing Loqi stopped at the edge of the building, and just as marveled and shocked, they started looking around frantically for anything; crystal steps, any rope mechanism, anything, whatever that was doing the trick and whatever that could allow them to follow. But, in vain, their hands patted air full of nothing and their search came out blank no matter where they looked.

And because of course they would, fireworks started exploding in the background.

Cor’s shoulders dropped and he sighed.  
“Oh, you have to be kidding me” he breathed out, and he could do but stare at Loqi’s figure as he crossed the sky illuminated by colorful fireworks behind him. He stared only for a moment, hating the whole mess, before he just sighed exasperatedly and radioed. “Someone follow him!”  
“M…Marshal, we’re trying, but there’s nothing” an officer at the roof replied as the entire squad kept looking around. In the background, he heard someone say ‘what if it’s really magic’, and that was when Cor hung up, rolled the eyes, and sighed out in frustration. Decided to not let this startle him as he thought Loqi wanted it to, he rushed again into an alleyway to avoid the crowds and towards the building he had always meant to go to.

As the people cheered like crazy, Loqi finally finished his sky stroll and landed just ever so softly on the roof he had aimed for, almost like it was just a continuation of the path he had walked, feet gently stepping down.  
He took a moment to turn around and face the avenue. He opened the arms and let the crowd keep cheering and clapping for him, and so, he started bowing as if thanking them, even daring to bring his hands to his mouth and blow kisses at everyone, waving with both hands and just…just so entertained by this, it drove Cor _crazy._

Cor took advantage of the time Loqi was wasting to keep running and dashing to his destination. Soon enough, he was at the north side of the hotel, so he hurried to the building in front of it, showing his badge and rushing inside and not letting anyone or anything stop him as he hurried upstairs. 

Chuckling to himself, Loqi kept waving down at the crowd and smiling for the photos, and so, after guessing it had been time enough and as he saw the police below start moving again, he turned around, and calmly headed for the other side of the roof; the north side.  
Getting there, he was received by another crowd that kept growing as people followed his movements on the screens and gathered around to try to get a closer view. Once more, Loqi climbed onto the edge of the roof to stand on it, straight and regal and eccentric.

Cor ran through a hallway.

After a moment, smiling smugly, he opened the arms again, full at his sides. Just the movement alone, like he was the pop idol of the century, sent the crowd into more and louder cheering as everyone tried to get a photograph, despite the nine floors in between.  
For a good while nothing happened but Loqi standing there, posing and gloating. Arms opened, he faced a side, and gracefully and slowly turned to the other. Just as calmly and slowly, he bowed every now and then in different directions. 

Cor broke through a door.

After a deep bow to the front, Loqi stood back up.  
“Insomnia!” he exclaimed, and the voice echoed through the speakers again. “You truly are the greatest stage of them all!” 

He blew a few more kisses to the crowd, waving.  
Then, he laughed lowly to himself, and unexpectedly, he took in a breath and said,  
“By the way, Marshal!”

And just as he yelled, Cor broke through the door of the balcony and stumbled forwards into it.  
At the calling, Cor froze in his spot and his heart skipped a beat as he looked up at Loqi.  
…no…no, it couldn’t be…  
…he had this…planned…!?

Cor stared up at Loqi, panting, exhausted, but petrified in shock and eyes wide as Loqi looked down at him with a wide, soft smile and a look that, despite the distance in between, seemed to say that he was…waiting for him.  
Cor swallowed.  
Loqi’s smile grew a bit.

“Is this your card!?”

With the back of his hands at his waist, Loqi elegantly and softly stomped a foot down, and the giant rolled up poster at his feet unfolded.  
As wide and as tall as the building Loqi stood at, the poster unrolled, and it revealed a deck card, a Joker, but customized as Loqi’s smiley signature emblem, and on a corner, Cor’s made-up hand signature he had invented just specifically for that one card.

Cor’s heart skipped a beat and he gasped, his breath cutting and stopping.  
…but…Cor had kept it on him _all_ these weeks…

Even though the people couldn’t know what DeMasque was talking about, to Cor it felt like the world had crumbled under his feet…maybe that was a bit dramatic, but it felt like that. It was not the card…which was a bit impressive, yes, but it was not the card as itself, it was what it implied. Him having given him the card all those months ago meant that he…once more…had had it all planned. All of it. And the card here was like his way of saying that he got away with it just fine. That none of Cor’s outsmarting of that night had been outsmarting, but planned.

The fact that DeMasque had anticipated for Cor to be there at that moment, when Cor thought he had managed to outsmart him throughout the way and thought he had forced him to lose his planned path, the fact that he was getting away with this, and the fact that he had gotten a huge poster of Cor’s card with the signature and exposed it to the entire city, it felt…not humiliating. Just…mindblowing. And it sort of left Cor feeling defeated.

Even as the elite forces were already climbing up the sides of the building as fast as they could, Cor just…knew it. In the moment he saw the card, he knew it. Knew it was senseless. Knew himself defeated.  
Again.  
And for the last time.

As people cheered and yelled, with Loqi just keeping the arms open and showing off to everyone, Cor stared at him shocked for a while. 

Then, finally, as his theme song finished, Loqi took off his hat dramatically, at first keeping it up towards the sky.  
“Thank you, Insomnia!”  
After that exclamation, letting his arm down in a circle, he bowed profoundly, crossing his arm in front of his tummy, and he stayed down for a while. The crowd burst into as many cheers as some yelled for him to not go, clapping, whistling, the crowd’s roar was something as absurd as chilling.

It felt like a moment that lasted hours, just the crowd gone crazy and Loqi bowing in gratitude, for a last time ever; a last blasting of his music theme, a last crime scene with that flashy, red, white and green costume, a last sight of his devilish smiley emblem, and a last chase after the Phantom Thief of Insomnia, the most wanted criminal, and yet, the most loved and cheered.

After some moments enjoying of that last bow, Loqi pulled back up in sync with the last bits of his music; the melody went up along an overly elegant movement of his arm, and it finished as he moved the hand. People still cheered for a bit and he waited. He let out one last mischievous laugh and opened the arms again for people to keep cheering, and then, finally, he put his hat back on, adjusting it for it to fit comfortably, and looking calm and ready for his next move.

Cor stared, attentive and alert; this had to be Loqi’s real escape. He had to see where he intended to jump and how, tried thinking at the speed of light of what he was going to do and where he was going to escape to, because if Loqi had planned for Cor to be in this balcony then it wasn’t going to be his route but it was the only possibility, fuck, Cor had to think, there had to be something else…  
…suddenly, Loqi looked down at him.

Despite the floors of distance in between, Loqi on top of a nine-story building and Cor at a balcony of a fifth floor, they locked eye contact. Cor, panting and breathless at the same time, looked up at him with wide eyes. Loqi looked down with a calm and soft smile, not the slightest hesitant or timid. The gaze they held felt knowingly, as if the two knew what the inevitable was and spoke silently through that stare.

The elite forces were soon at the edges of the roof.  
Loqi’s smile grew ever so slightly.

“Catch me.”

It had been a murmur. It didn’t sound in the speakers anymore, and even though it had been a murmur, Cor could have sworn that he heard it as if though there was no distance between them.

And without giving him or anyone else any time to think, Loqi put the arms to the sides again, not like whenever he received praise, but as if…ready to jump.  
But he didn’t.  
He let his weight lean forwards, and gravity oh so very slowly, oh so very gently started pulling him down.

Loqi closed the eyes gently, sweetly, smiling as if though his life was complete and nothing could ever become any better. For a moment, the peaceful look on his face made it seem as if though this was Loqi’s last breath, in the happiest, sweetest, and most fulfilled way he could have wanted it to be.  
And so, after feeling as if though those first moments of letting himself fall forwards had been in slow motion, Loqi’s tiptoes were the last to leave the roof’s edge.

Cor’s heart skipped a beat and his eyes opened a bit more at the sight. Even though he had seen Loqi do crazier things and jump off buildings endless times through more than two years, the sight of Loqi just calmly letting himself drop made him react by impulse; he reached for the balcony’s edge, a foot on the little step, and, not taking the eyes off Loqi, he opened the arms his way.

Arms open to the sides, like a bird, eyes closed and smiling, Loqi fell freely. Cor kept the eyes on the falling figure, open mouthed, and arms stretched as if about to receive a gift from the gods; shocked, devoted, and not sure if he was ready, yet soft and unable to focus elsewhere.

And as he fell, as if though he had become immune to gravity, or as if he was slowing down instead of falling faster, Loqi’s figure seemed to stay still for a second…and he started deintegrating into hundreds of playing cards.

Cor blinked in surprise, not sure he was seeing well, particularly from his angle, but he didn’t move from his spot; he kept the eyes locked on the green coat and the silver mask as they fell his way, even as they started deforming.  
Loqi’s figure, on its place, kept deintegrating, faster and faster, legs turning to thousands of cards, hair that was previously swinging in the air becoming more cards, all of his shape not disappearing but transforming into those multiple cards that flew upwards for a moment, and then started dancing down, falling gently and gracefully, raining over the cheering crowd that immediately started jumping on their place to try to get hold of one of the cards.

Finally, as the last cards flew into the air, the colorful figure kept falling until, finally, Cor caught it in arms.  
Not half as heavy as he had expected, Cor looked down at the empty coat he held in arms, staring at it as if expecting, against all logic, to find Loqi somewhere in this loose, liveless cloth.

Instead of focusing there, Cor looked up and started looking around, trying to spot Loqi.

Wonderful, sublime, breathtaking as the trick had been, Loqi had to have escaped somehow while everyone stared at the dummy turning into cards, or however he had done that. He had to be somewhere, doing his real, human escape…

But no matter where he looked at, Cor didn’t see him. He didn’t spot a trace of green, not a feather of a hat, not anything. Not at the sides of the hotel, not in the next door buildings, not in a window, just…nowhere.

Cor’s shoulders dropped. 

Just like that, it finished.

Loqi’s Grand Finale. Mask DeMasque’s retirement show. The last heist he made, the last chase he starred…the last chance Cor had at catching the only, single one criminal he could never get his hands on. The last chance to have a perfect capture record.  
The last time he and his rival, his nemesis, his eternal enemy faced each other.  
The end of their rivalry.

Truth be told, Cor didn’t feel shattered or broken. He didn’t feel humiliated. Hell, he didn’t even feel frustrated. Indeed, he almost…felt nothing. He felt a little disappointed, but that was it. Nothing that scarred him, nothing that hit him, it just disappointed him a little.

Cor looked down at the empty coat in his hands.  
…maybe he had always known.  
Since he saw Loqi at the roof. Fuck, since he first got into his Special Forces suit. Maybe, since Loqi announced his retirement.  
Maybe even before that.

Maybe Cor had always known it, and that was why he wasn’t feeling anything besides a slight disappointment after having lost to his great nemesis in the last, greatest encounter they ever had: that it was futile, and that he was going to lose.  
Some part of him knew that Loqi was going to win, no matter what anyone tried…so, maybe, his hope didn’t break because he never had any. 

Cor contained a sigh in his chest. Below on the streets, the crowd was happily cheering Mask DeMasque’s name, chanting it like people at a concert claiming their singer’s name in joy.

Blinking calmly, Cor felt something in between the folds of the coat. He stared, curious, and started searching for whatever was hidden there.

Finally, from between the folds, he saw something. He moved the folds away a bit better, until it was fully in sight.

Resting on the coat and now holding it in hands, there was a humble but very pretty bouquet of white and red flowers.  
Tied to the stems with a resistent string, Regis’ ring of the Lucii greeted him.

Cor stared at the ring for a moment, calm and serene. Then, he spotted two cards underneath it, so he grabbed them.  
One of them was one of Loqi’s calling cards, but this one was a way better quality; shiny and thick, the card had a special design of the Grand Finale, as if merchandise of it, with the smiley emblem, Mask DeMasque written on it, and the date. Cor raised an eyebrow and set it away and checked the other card.

It was blank, with a couple pink-reddish bubbles.  
“Thanks for the fun” was all that it read on a side. Turning it around, there was the drawing of a heart-shaped balloon.

After staring at it for a moment in total silence, Cor looked up back at the roof, at the spot where he saw Loqi let himself fall, with a gentle smile, asking Cor to catch him. 

As the crowd kept cheering DeMasque’s name and while the police asked them and failed to clean the area, Cor looked back down at the bouquet with the ring on it. 

Well. This was how his night ended.

What a surprise.


	11. A Victory of Two

Two days since the Grand Finale went by.

It was night at Insomnia. Cor had gotten back from work, and hadn’t done more than take a shower and sit at his living room, turn the TV on, and stay plastered on the couch watching the news. 

It was so futile. So absurdly useless. Loqi had vanished like none of the whole Mask DeMasque thing had ever happened. There was nothing the day after his Grand Finale and there would be nothing of him today, either. He was just…gone. As a character, of course. The man was probably just…carrying on with his routine like it was fucking nothing. Cor wouldn’t know. After the Grand Finale night, he hadn’t visited Loqi at the gym entrance nor had he spied him. He didn’t want to know anything about him. 

Fucking Loqi Tummelt. Thought himself the great thing. That tiny, horrible, stupid brat, that fucking idiot that left Cor like this, so…fucking…frustrated.

Cor sighed while watching the news. So far it had been two hours of Mask DeMasque and stupid things like the weather and traffic. Besides that, everything kept going over and over on DeMasque and his final act. Like Cor didn’t have enough with having lived it and being humiliated in front of the entire city…not just in the act itself, but as an eternal spot. At least Cor used to be seen as the guy that couldn’t catch him…now he was the guy that could never do it for real and would never. There would go Cor straight to history, the man that could catch everyone, the most lethal serial killers, the best hidden murderers, the most sly of kidnappers…but remembered for not catching the one guy in a fucking circus costume in _thights._

The only thing Cor did for hours was get a beer from the fridge and went back to splatter himself on the couch, with a moody look upon his face and watching the news of his stupid nemesis that dared defy him and get away with it just like that, being broadcasted over and over. He didn’t even bother switching on any lights in the entire apartment. He wasn’t worthy of any light. He wasn’t worthy of anything but this…miserable beer and the miserable news and his miserable ass on the couch. 

At some point, he switched to a different TV channel that broadcasted news as well, only to find the interview from earlier that day. It was, no surprise, a DeMasque conference press. Clarus was the one answering questions, and by protocol his high commands were at the table with him, Cor right next to him. Even though Clarus was the one answering all questions, Cor still noticed that the cameraman had filmed so Cor fit in the screen, too. Those…fucking bastards that just wanted to see his face and his reactions. Gods damn it.   
“So, if Mask DeMasque shows no signs, will his case be closed?”  
“Serial thief Mask DeMasque, as stated, hasn’t shown any sign of activity in the past two days and has announced a retirement” Clarus answered as clear as he could. “If the Police Department receive no notification of any sort of his activities or find any, Mask DeMasque’s case will be officially closed as soon as starting next year; his crime record, long as it may be, holds no charges of theft and involve all only private property intrusion and minor vandalization, none of which are crimes with severe punishments, and hence, making his case a quick one to close if activity is none.”

Cor’s grip on his beer tightened and his frown deepened.   
So the bastard walked free. Because of course laws were wonderful and because despite the millions of magic tricks, the dozens of districts traveled, the thousands of stolen things, and _three fucking years_ chasing him, if one looked at the consequences he hadn’t done more than just break into some house. No injured, no stolen anything, just…fucking intrusion of private property that just needed a ‘Hey kid, could you stay away please, thank you’. Unbelieveable. Three fucking years, three bastardous, long, agonizing _years_ and the bastard just. Walked free. 

Cor took a last sip of his beer and sighed, watching the TV half-moody and half dead inside.   
Suddenly, a knock at his window made him jump in his place and move as if about to stand up, startled as anyone would be after hearing a knock at the window of the fifth-floor apartment where he lived, and turning to the source of the noise.  
He could only see a last glimpse of a shadow in the moonlight vanish, and, most importantly, a sheet of paper pasted on his window.

Standing up from his seat, Cor turned the TV off, left his empty bottle at the couch, and went towards the window to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. He was sure one beer was not enough to get even half drunk, but he still had to make sure.  
Reaching for the window, he read the note on the paper.  
 _‘Go to your room’._

It was pretty obvious, then. Feeling as his insides started burning in flames of anger and frustration, Cor frowned and glared at the note, letting out a shaky, angered sigh through the nose.  
Oh, that tiny little shit, he was going to fucking _pay._

Cor stormed towards his room, still frowning. He opened the door, and at first he found nothing.   
Yet, he looked at the window because he just knew already. 

A few seconds later, a shadow passed by outside. Then, a pair of red boots appeared from the upper part, then the respective legs in white pants, and soon enough, the whole body appeared.  
Loqi, in full Mask DeMasque costume, stood outside his window, feet on the windowsill, crouched and looking inside.  
Cor’s pout and frown intensified as he just watched. Loqi, at his window, looked around like a curious bird trying to figure out what he was looking out. Head tilted, he knocked on the crystal, and then waved a hand at Cor, like a fucking fool.

After considering it for a moment, Cor sighed as exasperated as before, but he still went towards the window. He unlocked it, and pushed it up. Loqi put one of his gloved hands on it to keep it up, because Cor had let go, and the window shut on its own if not held.   
Cor made sure to deepen his frown when they made eye contact, even despite Loqi’s happy smile.  
“Dropped by to make fun of me?” Cor asked. “Humiliate me? Rub it in my face, step on me and remind me of everything I already know?”

Loqi laughed a little. Cor tried to keep his breath calm and not shove him out. Calmly, Loqi moved to sit on the inner windowsill, legs swinging and inside Cor’s apartment, letting the window close behind him.  
“You have no idea how happy it would make me to throw you off the window right now” Cor kept threateaning him. “It’d be very easy, you fucking wimp.”  
“Oh, don’t call me a wimp” Loqi replied in a chuckle. “It makes your failure more pathetic.”  
“What are you doing here, Loqi?” Cor growled between clenching teeth, crossing the arms and glaring at his enemy.   
“Just wanted to drop by. I was missing you” he purred, and as Cor took in a gasp to snap out at him, Loqi went on. “It’s kinda sad saying bye to DeMasque” he used both hands to take off the mask. Cor saw him gently place it at his side. “So…I wanted to wear the costume a real last time” he smiled up at the cop. “Thought you’d like saying bye to him, too.”

Cor let out an angry sigh, looked away, and messed in his spot a bit, hands turning to fists, him trying to release his stress through that, up to cover his mouth, arms crossing, and shaking the head. If he had tried to talk, Loqi imagined him mumbling unintelligible things, unable to word anything. He chuckled.  
“Oh, come on, Marshal” Loqi said in a honey-coated voice. Then, not giving Cor the chance to complain, Loqi spoke while taking off his boots casually like this was his house, dropping them. “You know you had fun all these years.”  
“I could have caught you” Cor snapped at him, hissing, getting closer to him. Loqi didn’t move back as Cor leaned towards him, a hand at his waist and the other going up to point at his chin, the Marshal’s head tilting slightly to a side and _glaring_ at Loqi like never before. Cor breathed shakily, like trying to hold back a million screams, and his jaw was clearly clenched. When he spoke, he did it in an angered, firey hiss. “You’re not more skilled or better than me, you just…used fucking tricks. That’s cheating. If you hadn’t used any of that stupid magic against me, I would have caught you _years_ ago.”

Loqi stayed quiet. Despite Cor’s shaken state, the shaky breath, the whole sensation like he was on fire both inside and outside and was ready to detonate at any given moment, Loqi stayed sat on the windowsill calmly, like he didn’t have a man twice his size and weight and ten times his strength half-hovered on him, threatening and mad like hell.   
Even more…a few seconds later, Loqi started smiling.   
Sat on the windowsill as he was, he was almost at Cor’s height. He looked at the man standing in front of him, angered, glaring, and waiting.   
And Loqi smiled at him.

Loqi stared at each his eyes, with a gaze that, the more seconds passed, the darker it got. After a minute, he took in a breath.  
“Do you want to hear a theory I have?” Loqi asked in a slow murmur, like dragging his words as if hands on a lover’s back. Cor didn’t falter or reacted, and kept staring. “Regarding you.”

Still, Cor didn’t reply. He stared at Loqi with a gaze that was a mix between anger and curiosity. Loqi waited some moments, and smiled at Cor again after a bit. His smile grew until it almost became an amused grin.  
Loqi let the tension build up for a moment. Then, he took in another little breath.  
“I think” Loqi murmured, “that you _could_ have caught me…” 

He leaned closer to Cor and looked slightly up at him. Their faces were closer than before. Loqi could feel Cor’s agitated, angry breath on him. He looked at him for a while, quiet, gaze heavier and darker and brighter. He gave him a feline-like smile.  
“…you just didn’t _want_ to” he whispered. 

Cor’s eyebrow twitched, and he kept glaring at Loqi, yet with clear confusion on his face. Loqi decided to take that look like an ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’. He chuckled at it.   
He looked down at Cor’s mouth and bit his own lower lip, smiling widely. He nibbled at his lip for a moment and looked back up at the Marshal’s eyes. He let go of his lip and took in yet another little breath.  
“My theory, dear Marshal, is that you had plenty, more than enough chances of catching me for real all across this past year” Loqi continued, voice low. “Even on the day of the Grand Finale. I think that you could have caught me, that you had the chance right there, many times…but you let me go on purpose.”

Cor’s eyebrow twitched again and his frown transformed in a mix between anger and some sort of disgust, as if not understanding how dare Loqi say that or like finding it illogical. Yet…he didn’t reply. He stayed quiet, jaw still clenched, and breath hitching a bit. Loqi didn’t miss any of that. His little smile turned to a smug one.  
“And you wanna know why I think that you did that?” Loqi asked now explicitly and shamelessly sensual. Cor didn’t answer. Loqi just grinned at him and replied anyway. “I think…that you didn’t want to catch me because you knew that it implied my arrest.”

Cor stayed unfaltered, unfazed, and blank. Loqi kept grinning at him.  
“Because my arrest implied being found guilty” he continued. “And if I was found guilty, then that meant…prison for me.”

Cor’s heart skipped a beat. Loqi smiled almost as if he had seen or heard it.   
With a little breath, Loqi moved a hand up, and, elegantly, he laid his fingertips on Cor’s chest, watching it during his pause.   
“I think that you could have caught me, but never did, because you didn’t want me to be arrested…” he whispered sensually and darkly as his fingertips started walking up Cor’s chest, teasing, slow. Loqi looked back up at Cor’s eyes, with that dark and erotic gaze. “Because you know what they do to guys like me in prison.”

Cor kept staring at him, one eye and the other per turns, glaring, arms crossed and standing completely still, like nothing on this universe could move him. Loqi reached up with his other hand to lay it on Cor’s shoulder, caressing it a little.  
“Marshal, I think you were jealous” he whispered, as he rounded Cor’s neck with his arms. “I think the idea of me being trapped in a building with hundreds of other men drove you crazy” Loqi got closer, as one of his hands caressed Cor’s nape and went up to his hair. “I think you couldn’t stand the idea of cellmates, of cell neighbors and other visitors in my room, who knows, maybe even the guards, all coming in, bending me over, and taking me like fucking savages” he breathed in a hiss. “I think you couldn’t stand the idea of dozens of other men taking turns with me, taking turns to mount me, one after the other, holding me down and touching me all over and forcing me to take them whole until none of us could go on any longer…”

Loqi brought Cor down a little, arms completely wrapped around his neck, until their mouths could ghost each other. He kept smiling, and looked at Cor through half-lidded eyes.  
“But I think that what drove you absolutely crazy…” he whispered. And then, dark, low, lips rubbing Cor’s, he whispered, “…was that you knew that I would have _loved_ it.”

Faster than what Loqi could anticipate or even process, Cor grabbed his clothes by the chest in tight fists, got him off the windowsill, and so fast Loqi didn’t even step down on the floor, Cor turned around and violently slammed him against the other wall.  
Loqi had barely processed what was happening and got to look up at Cor with bright, eager eyes, hands holding to Cor’s wrists while the cop held him up against the wall.

“Get out of that fucking, stupid disguise, it makes me so fucking _angry”_ Cor growled between clenched teeth, glaring down at him with pure hatred, and slammed his mouth against Loqi’s.

With a shaky inhale, Loqi whimpered out of surprise at first, but his eyelids immediately fluttered and he closed the eyes as he breathed into Cor’s mouth, smiling as he kissed back.   
Complying, Loqi tried messing a bit with his clothes; Cor let go of him from the chest but adjusted him so he was still holding him up, this time his hands going down to hold Loqi in place by grabbing him by the ass from under the coat, needlessly squeezing each cheek. Loqi yelped out a bit and grinned mid-kiss, hands and shoulders working on taking off the green coat dumbly and as best as he could, trapped between the wall and that huge boulder that was Cor Leonis holding him against it and kissing him like a desperate savage.

The kiss was everything but gentle. Sloppy, wet, the kiss was a mess not only of lips but teeth accidentally clashing and tongues desperately rolling on each other, breaths hot and shaky. Cor pressed against Loqi and gave him no rest or chance to push back, like this too was a competition and this time he wasn’t up for losing. Loqi didn’t try to overpower him. No, indeed, Cor’s readiness, his strength and firmness, that _dominance…_ fuck, it tore him apart and broke all of him down, and he was so very ready and ecstatic to get more and more of it.

Letting the coat drop to the floor, Loqi wrapped his legs and arms around Cor as the cop pressed him harder to him. Loqi moaned mid-kiss as soon as he felt, already big and hard, Cor’s erection against him through their pants. A while into the heavy, desperate kiss, Loqi heard Cor moan into his mouth, but didn’t stop. The two kept going for a while shamelessly moaning into each other’s mouth and kissing not caring about the obscene, wet noises they made. 

Soon, Cor started tugging at Loqi’s vest, dumb and fast but firm, finding the middle and pulling it open with strength enough to send the buttons flying away. Just as obediently as before, Loqi used hands and shoulders to try to drop the vest, not even done when he felt Cor already tugging at his shirt as well. Smiling, Loqi wanted to tell him how desperate Cor was, but it was useless as Cor kept hogging his mouth and didn’t give it a break.

After a moment, Cor pulled back a step, harshly pulling Loqi along, and back into a kiss. On his feet and no longer against the wall, Loqi started shrugging off his shirt while Cor messed with his pants blindly.   
Cor pulled apart from his mouth, only go reach down for Loqi’s neck to start kissing it just as needy, as sloppy and heavily. Loqi groaned at the touch, shivering a little, as his hands went to Cor’s back to tug at his shirt in a dumb attempt of taking it off. Cor rushed to take it off and toss it away, went back to Loqi’s neck, and his hands went into Loqi’s pants from behind, once more grabbing his ass cheeks and squeezing them, gropping, pulling them to the sides and enjoying of it, as Loqi’s pants, already undone, dropped to his ankles. 

Before Loqi could try to pull Cor’s pants down, the officer suddenly turned him against against the wall again, bending him over just enough. With a little laugh after the startled gasp, Loqi understood and leaned against the wall, pulling his butt up and spreading the legs just enough. Cor got on him again, pressed to his back and breathed into Loqi’s ear, shaky and heavy, as his hands pulled Loqi’s underwear down. Loqi hummed in delight, and then bit down on his lower lip when he felt Cor’s hand caressing one of his ass cheeks, preparing him, feeling him, and then, as two of the Marshal’s fingers started going down the line in between, Loqi smiling widely in eagerness, impatient for it to happen…

He felt Cor’s surprise. He felt it in the way he paused and slowed down, and as he pulled away to get a look.   
Loqi stayed pressed to the wall pretending to not know what was happening, while smiling and trying to not laugh or spoil the surprise.   
Soon enough, he felt Cor pull slightly at the plug in his butt.  
“…you came here… _prepared_ …?”

Loqi tried to not laugh. He didn’t reply and stayed in his spot. After a moment, he looked over his shoulder at Cor, and couldn’t help but widen his smile at him with a knowing look in his face. Cor looked at him only for a moment, and then back down at his ass.  
Shoved in there, Loqi was wearing a silver plug in his asshole. Cor stared at it only for a moment, and then, holding it from the base, he started pulling it out.   
Loqi hummed in response, leaning against the wall and resting a side of his face on it, humming in pleasure as Cor slowly pulled the plug out. 

Letting him be, Cor reached carefully with two fingertips and touched Loqi’s hole. It felt considerably wet and slippery.   
After letting the surprise go away, Cor pressed his fingertips to the rim of Loqi’s asshole, and started caressing it gently. Loqi hummed again, moving the butt against his fingers and rubbing against them.   
“You, gods damn _slut”_ Cor muttered as he leaned against Loqi again, fingers still caressing him. “You came here fingered and lubed already, you were fucking… _prepared.”_  
“I knew you’d be impatient, so I got rid of the whole prepping for you” Loqi replied in a soft, purr-like sweet voice. “Besides, I also knew you’d be too fucking big. No way in hell was I coming here not spread forehand. The condoms are in my pockets, by the way.”

Cor didn’t reply. Instead, he finally pushed his fingers inside, neither too slow nor sudden. Loqi moaned both in surprise and pleasure, shivered, and took a moment before he was pushing back onto Cor’s fingers, humming.   
“You fucking brat” Cor muttered, angry, angry at the idea of Loqi having prepared for this like he had always known this was going to happen, just like he did every single time out in his crime scenes; every single step already planned and taken care of. Yet, angry as Cor muttered, he kept fingering Loqi, feeling the lube already all over the place, his muscles tightening and releasing around him, and spreading open.

Even if Loqi had prepared himself before coming to his house, Cor still wanted to make sure he would be fine. Eager, exasperatedly impatient as he was, he still took a few minutes to finger Loqi and wait to give him the chance in case he regretted it or decided to stop. While fingering him, Cor reached down for Loqi’s pants at his ankles and took out one of the condoms. He let go of Loqi for a bit just to open one of them, and then returned to the task while rolling the condom onto himself with a more patient hand.

However, the more Cor fingered, the more Loqi moaned and hummed in delight, until reaching a point where Loqi kept pushing back onto his fingers, a bit too eagerly, nearly fucking himself on them.   
“I’m ready, Cor” Loqi whined out as if throwing a tantrum. “Just fuck me, gods damn.”

Permission given as if Cor had been waiting only for that, the Marshal pulled his fingers out, but instead of shoving his dick in, he turned Loqi around and reached to grab him by the ass again.   
Using his feet to push down his pants and underwear still at his ankles until they dropped to the floor, Loqi reached up to hug Cor’s neck at the time the cop pulled him up again, and slammed him against the wall once more. He reached to press his mouth to Loqi’s, and started kissing him fast and heavy, retaking that frantic rhythm from before, breath heavy and shaky. 

After a moment just kissing, Cor used a hand to pull his cock out of his pants, and started looking for Loqi’s entrance blindly. Loqi chuckled as he hooked his legs onto Cor’s elbows.  
“So the pinning to the wall _is_ a fetish?” Loqi asked casually, but Cor didn’t reply. Soon enough, he felt Cor’s tip slipping in. He moaned quietly, but it intensified as Cor just shoved the rest of himself in. Loqi let out a little high pitched yelp that, in any other situation, would have had Cor making fun of him, but there was no time for that, no.

This was three _years_ worth of teasing, two rather subtle, and one just blantatly shameless, explicit, sometimes even obscene teasing, this was a whole _year_ of sexual tension doing but pile up every day worse and worse and worse, a whole year of staring at Loqi’s shiny, beautiful, obscene mouth, at his ass, at his legs, at his every movement, seeing him smirk and lick his lips, having him caress Cor on purpose and pull away at the worst moment, kissing him tempting to go on and then leave him hanging there waiting for more, of humping him and leaving him cuffed with a hard-on in his pants after riding it on purpose, this was a whole year of Loqi teasing him very much on purpose and Cor being unable to do _anything_ but shamefully jerk off at random hours at the shower, in bed, in the fucking service room of the police precinct because the pictures of Loqi’s body, the sensation of his hands, the visuals of his _mouth,_ they invaded him and tortured him, but all he got after that was a shameful sensation of regret and embarrassment and humiliation and still _not enough satisfaction,_ oh no, no, this wasn’t going to be slow, teasing sex to make Loqi plead, no; this was going to just be just straight _brutal,_ Cor taking what he had been denied for a whole fucking year.

Cor let out a shaky breath with a bit of a moan once he was in, adjusting Loqi a bit better in arms; pressing the tiny thief to the wall and holding him up by the hips, Cor put a hand to the wall and started fucking him with no teasing or waiting. Loqi moaned and hissed, holding to Cor by the neck and looking down at their hips as they moved on each other. Cor picked up a steady, quick pace, at which Loqi gasped and kept the mouth open. He looked up at Cor to the eyes and gave him a dirty, knowing glance, like telling him he didn’t know he was this impatient. 

By any reply, Cor suddenly grabbed him by the chin, a bit roughly; yet, Loqi only hummed in delight as response. If Cor was picking up right, the little idiot was getting off on being manhandled. Not admitting it, yet not denying the sensation either, the idea sent a shiver through Cor’s spine and made him pick up a harder pace, slamming into Loqi with more force than before.  
Loqi moaned out loud, and Cor watched his mouth. He watched as it opened into an obscene O; watched his bright, wet lips and their shape, his tongue, the way he pouted the lips after a few more couple thrusts and hummed, every little way they opened, the way his mouth opened and moved with every breath and moan he took in and out as Cor fucked him into the wall. 

Cor let go of his face and cursed under his breath, adjusting him again and leaning forwards to press his forehead to the wall next to Loqi’s head, and he picked up on an almost desperate pace. Loqi plain out whined, hugging to Cor harder, pressing him close, legs spread open, and the Marshal deep in him, hot and thick and fucking him in all the right places. Loqi closed the eyes and threw the head back, smiling and hissing out a whined out, long ‘Yes’, letting Cor slam into him and handle him himself, hearing him curse and shamelessly moan in his ear. 

Cor learned rather soon that Loqi was _very_ vocal. At first Cor had thought he was just exaggerating, but Loqi seemed sincere in the way he moaned, like he enjoyed of being vocal as itself. He kept moaning and humming in delight, approval and pleasure, hissing every now and then, and letting out a wide diversity of ‘Yes’ and ‘Gods’ each now and then. Cor was neither impressed nor scared off by him being vocal; all he cared was that he had this idiot tease he had wanted and who had left him frustrated in every possible way for a whole year against a wall, hugged to him, and squeezing around his dick.

“Ah, fuck” Loqi yelled out after a while amongst his waves of moaning, panting and breathless at the same time, as Cor mercilessly drove into him, hard and fast. “Ah, shit- Cor…!”  
Cor hummed long and low in his ear, like a growl of pleasure, perhaps at the sound of his name. Loqi tried to say it again to see if that had been the reason, but all that he could manage was an F sound and a long, high-pitched moan he was trying to bite back for it to not come out as stupid as it felt it was.

Biting on his lower lip for a moment only, Loqi started pushing his hips back against Cor, in fast tiny movements, not even aiming at being in sync out of Cor’s stupidly fast pace, but enough to thrust back in little circles. Loqi let go of his lips and moaned out loud again as he did, head going back and shoulders shrugging, not helping but press Cor harder to himself. Shit, it was _nice,_ it was even way nicer than Loqi had thought it would be, and boy, he had fantasized with this since the moment Cor had pinned his hands to the ground that one heist night when he broke the mask. Cor was as big as Loqi had expected, thicker than he had imagined, and way better at moving and fucking on dominant role than he had dreamed about. 

Cor, on his side, didn’t slow down nor took pauses as he fucked Loqi into the wall fast and hard, enjoying of every sensation, enjoying of the guy holding to his back and moaning next to him, panting, enjoying of how hot and tight he was inside, of the way his muscles tensed around him as he moved, released at times, enjoyed of his aroma and every noise he made.   
A moment later, Cor pulled apart just enough from the wall, but hips still going almost as if on automatic, and he looked at Loqi again, faces inches apart. 

Loqi looked up at him with bright and fakely innocent eyes that were just shamelessly dirty, really. Cor looked at his eyes only for a moment, before fixing on his lips again.  
Loqi didn’t miss it and smiled for him. Yet, as Cor was still moving, Loqi’s mouth opened with a little moan. Cor stared and didn’t miss out on anything, staying close and watching his mouth attentively. The way it opened for a moan, and half-closed afterwards…a little tremble on the lower lip…the pretty shape of the upper one…the way it opened over and over with every little moan, the way Loqi bit down on it and slowly released…

Cor slowed down the frantic pace, only to exchange speed for strength; he thrust into Loqi hardly, almost as if wanting to push him through or up the wall with only his cock; Loqi let out a loud moan, and only after a bit of a pause, Cor slammed in again, harder, and again, and again. At the next hit, Loqi threw the head back and mewled out, shoulders shrugging and teeth going to bite his lower lip, humming. 

Suddenly, Cor pulled out. Loqi looked down at him with a confused and almost disappointed look.  
Instead of explaining, Cor put him down- and then pushed him down again. Catching the drift right away, Loqi moved down onto his knees in front of him, looking up at Cor and not breaking eye contact as he smiled wide and perverted and biting on his lip. 

Loqi grabbed Cor’s cock with a hand, gently, wrapping his fingers around it finger by finger. However, before he could start teasing, Cor grabbed him by the hair and forced him to look up; despite the slightly harsh motion, Loqi hummed in approval, and looked up with a gaze both impatient and attentive.  
“I’m fucking your mouth” Cor said, not asking, and taking off the condom. “And you’re taking it all.”

Yet, despite the way he was saying it like orders, he only stared until Loqi, still giving him that kinky smile, nodded. With a hand still holding him by the hair, Cor reached down with his other hand and grabbed Loqi’s face, almost gently, except for the thumb; it reached for Loqi’s mouth, and he caressed the lower lip, almost like it was his first time seeing a pair of lips and trying to feel it. He dragged his thumb across the lip, watching it and the upper one attentively, intense, with a gaze desperate and aflame on desire and lust. Loqi allowed him to keep toying with his lips, keeping his mouth gently open on purpose. After a bit more of just staring and toying with his lips, Cor shoved the thumb into his mouth; however, before Loqi had finished closing his mouth around it, Cor pulled it out, and handled Loqi by the hair to make him face his dick again. 

Loqi stared at it almost with fascination at first, reaching up to just touch it gently with his fingertips at first and a hand lying flat on Cor’s belly. The Marshal breathed shakily and watched Loqi stare at his cock, because even just the way he stared was sexual; fascinated, eager, gaze almost gleaming in impatient want and _thirst._ Cor couldn’t help but notice the size difference as well; Loqi, smaller than the average, and Cor, bigger than the average, were up to making quite a pair. Loqi’s hands made his dick seem even bigger than Cor had ever thought it was, and it almost looked like too much for Loqi to take in that small, stupid mouth. 

At first, once Loqi had stopped staring, he reached close to lick Cor along the shaft. Enjoyable as it was, Cor breathed shakily, and pulled him back from the hair.  
 _“In”_ he ordered. Smiling at the order, Loqi opened his mouth, put the tip in, and once there, Cor pushed the rest of himself in all at once. Loqi hummed and moved a little in place, but didn’t push back. Indeed, the bastard seemed to _enjoy_ of it. Cor pushed in until he was completely into his mouth, Loqi’s nose at his pubes, mouth wide open as it could possibly be. He hummed in delight once Cor was all the way in, and he sucked on the length. 

Cor waited some moments to enjoy of the sight, and to let Loqi adjust himself better on his knees as he was more comfortable, a hand going up for support to Cor’s belly at his hip. And meanwhile, Cor just admired it.  
The mouth. That gods damn mouth that had started it all. The cushion, gleaming lips that were the trigger of all this sexual frustration, guilty of his everyday torture for the past year. The beautifully shaped, gorgeous mouth that had kissed him and detonated something savage and needy in him with one stupid kiss.   
Finally, that same mouth, those gorgeous lips, wrapped around his cock. As soft, as gleaming, and beautiful, rounding his dick and taking it into that warm, expert, obscene mouth of his. 

Cor let Loqi pull back slowly. He didn’t even mind the attempt at teasing, because he was too focused not in the sensation but just the sight alone of those lips.   
Loqi only managed to pull back and bob the head back down a few couple times, before Cor finally had enough of the sight, and did as he had threatened before. 

Holding a handful of Loqi’s hair, and now as the blond had adjusted to be comfortable and firm, Cor started thrusting his hips forwards, fucking into Loqi’s mouth at a rather slow but not gentle pace. Loqi hummed around him, shifted a bit again, and Cor started speeding up. The Marshal moaned out loud, not taking the eyes off Loqi’s pretty face and his gorgeous lips wrapped around his cock, and the longer he stared, the faster he moved. Cor hissed and moaned, and Loqi just either hummed around him, or made these choking sounds that, despite how sloppy they were, didn’t seem to be a bad sort of choking. 

Cor thought about giving the guy a rest before going as wild as he really wanted. But nah. Loqi hadn’t been soft with him all this time, so Cor was going to give him what he sowed. 

Still holding Loqi’s hair in a fist, enough to handle him around but not really injure him, Cor planted his feet on the floor and started properly fucking Loqi’s mouth at a speed as he would have done an ass. Going fast as his hips allowed him, Cor kept the mouth open, moaning at times, as he still watched Loqi’s mouth get fucked, his cock going in and out at a frantic speed, and Loqi could do but kneel in place, hold to Cor, and let him. 

“Ah…fuck” Cor moaned breathlessly, both hands going down to hold Loqi’s head in place for better support, and kept going at that merciless speed. Aroused, muttering curses and breathing out, Cor moved and dragged Loqi along, making him stumble a bit while the blond tried to figure out how to move without once taking his mouth away of Cor’s cock, until he found the wall behind him and sat against it. Now with real, better support, Cor put a hand to the wall and the other he kept behind Loqi’s head, holding him steady and firm, and he just went _faster._

Picking up a pace that went from frantic to plain out desperate, Cor moaned shamelessly, near yelling, as he fucked Loqi’s mouth at a speed he had never done before in his life, not to a mouth. Loqi still held himself in place and was not pinching, pushing, nor humming in rejection, the fucking bastard seemed to enjoy it somehow, if just struggling a little at keeping up, but Cor was not going to soften just because the bastard had never had his mouth fucked like it really needed to get so he could for dear life just learn to shut up. 

Cor continued cursing and hissing, not slowing down, and kept going for a couple minutes more before he felt himself near to it. He didn’t want to stop. Even if he couldn’t go a round two to fuck this guy’s heart-shaped, deliciously firm and sturdy butt, Cor was desperate for this mouth and he was going to come in it or so the gods help him, his life would never be complete, not until he had done that and this was his best, most arousing shot and he was going to take it.  
“Coming” he breathed out, panting, and tried repeating to make sure Loqi listened, warning him. “I’m coming.”

Loqi just hummed and whatever it meant, Cor didn’t understand nor care. Still going fast as never before, Cor threw the head back and moaned, loving every second of it; Loqi’s tongue frantically rolling against his cock, pressing in the right spots, the warmth and sloppy softness of the inside, and those cushion lips. And so, a wave of ecstasy hit Cor like a bolt, made him shiver from head to toes, and he came hard, heavy and hot in Loqi’s mouth.

At first, it was so sudden that before Loqi could think and switch to swallowing, Cor was already filling his mouth; some spilled from the corner of Loqi’s lips squeezing between Cor’s cock and it, but soon enough Loqi was swallowing everything else. Moaning and hissing, Cor rode his orgasm at a much slower pace, but each hit just way harder than before, trading speed for power in his thrusts into Loqi’s mouth. The thief hummed long and low with each of those strong thrusts, and only after a moment, he moved back; softening his grip but not letting go of Loqi’s hair, Cor allowed Loqi to pull back and let go of his cock.

Loqi took in a deep breath, that he let out slowly and almost dreamily. He hummed and groaned a bit out of the effort, a finger going up to clean his own lips.   
“Fuck” Cor breathed out as he still recovered, eyes closed, panting, and forehead pressing to the wall, almost defeated by his own orgasm and left limp and numb and yet at the same time ecstatic and thrilled. Loqi just stayed on his knees, happily humming again, trapped between the wall and Cor’s cock on his face. He tried cleaning some cum off Cor’s tip, but Cor shushed his hand away, not allowing him the chance to toy with him when oversensitive. Loqi just giggled a bit and sat back, coughing a little and trying to clear his throat.

“You have a very good diet, eh, Marshal?” Loqi asked out playfully but low and tired, and clearly raspy. The stupid teasing brought Cor out of the wave of his orgasm, and he remembered about not allowing this idiot to tease him, not anymore. 

Still by the hair, Cor gestured for Loqi to pull on his feet again. Looking down, Cor saw Loqi was still hard, if with so much precum at the tip, it looked like Loqi had already come too. He guided him a few steps to the bed and half tossed him to it, facedown.  
“You sure you can go a round two, Marshal?” Loqi asked, looking back at him and very much on purpose lifting his ass subtly.   
“Maybe” Cor sighed as he reached and sat at the edge of the bed, a leg folded on it. “But I don’t need that to make _you_ come. You must have very poor sex if you think penis in ass is the only way to properly orgasm.”  
“My, I assure you I’ve had _wonderful_ sex” Loqi said, and Cor rolled the eyes so hard Loqi could almost physically feel it. “I’m just…delighted that you’re not the “penis in ass equals only way to have sex” sort of guy” he hissed. “So. What’re you planning for me, babe?”  
“I’m not your _babe”_ Cor complained and pinched Loqi’s butt enough to make him flinch and make a ridiculous noise that made Loqi pout at him, probably for ruining his slut mood. Cor was honestly just happy to ruin something for him. “Now for the love of all _gods,_ can you just…seriously…shut up?”

Loqi still laughed in response, but miraculously didn’t verbally reply. He moved the hips a bit, as if asking Cor that if he was going to do something, it better be in the lower half of his body. Cor wasted some time just caressing Loqi’s soft back with one of his rough hands, really secretly just giving time to himself to see if he did grow hard again to properly fuck him; “penis in ass” was not the only way to have sex but _boy,_ did he want to.

He thought about reaching down and finger fuck him, but he didn’t want Loqi to come, either, not yet. Instead, Cor stood up from the bed, took Loqi by the leg and hips, and turned him around. He bent down, pulled Loqi’s hips up and placed his thighs at Cor’s shoulders, and he licked his balls. He heard Loqi let out a purr of pleasure, at which Cor rolled the eyes slightly, heard Loqi giggle, and he decided to keep going. For a moment, Cor teased with the tongue around the balls and the penis’ shaft, but just as he was making Loqi think he was going to give him a blowjob, Cor moved down, and started eating his ass instead.  
 _“Oh”_ Loqi purred out in surprise, moving the hips, and closing the eyes while Cor worked. 

Cor closed the eyes and let his tongue and mouth go against Loqi’s butt like it was another mouth; tongue unashamed and obscene, not afraid of exploring and going in, and mouth wide and sloppy. The fact that Loqi had lubed himself forehand was making this not just a sensation of protocol but quite pleasant; it was flavored. The bastard had prepared not just in case Cor fucked him, which he knew for sure, but for this possibility as well. Cor hated him…but, honestly, this guy’s ass was too pretty to stop. For once, Cor was just going to let him get away with this.

After a while, he heard Loqi sigh and hum again, and felt him move. Cor opened the eyes and looked up to see Loqi start reaching for his cock with a hand. Cor moved a hand and tossed Loqi’s away.  
“Hm-hm” Cor denied. “No touching.”  
 _“Ooh”_ Loqi let out playfully and sensually. “Kinky.”

Yeah, whatever, he could be sassy and slutty but Cor was really going to show him a real orgasm denial, this brat…needed that punishment, this fucking smartass that thought he had seen it all. 

Cor let go for a moment to reach for Loqi’s pants again and fish out another condom. Before Loqi could question him, Cor went back down onto his ass, and focused whole on eating him out. He only spent a few moments teasing, only enough, before unleashing all that he had. After tasting and kissing Loqi’s entrance, he let his tongue properly slip in, and he let it slide in the right places, press in other ones, toy here and there and figuring by Loqi’s body reactions and noises where he was at his weakest, and once finding those, completely abusing of licking and pressing the spots with no rest.   
It didn’t take long before Loqi was moaning more genuinely than his moans for fun and getting a little more eager and impatient on Cor. He tried a few times again to get a hold of his cock, but Cor, as if watching him somehow despite his closed eyes and full focus at eating him out, kept smacking his hands away, and even holding one of them down. 

A few minutes into it, Loqi was but a whining mess. Cor felt himself grow aroused, and he started caressing himself, feeling the blood rush down his belly the more Loqi tried moving against him or touching himself.   
“Cor, please…” Loqi whined out after a moment, trying to sit up, but a hand on his belly made him let himself fall back, and he put his free hand to his face. _“Fuck”_ he breathed out, not only aroused, but as if finally questioning what he had gotten himself into. Cor tried containing a smile and took the motivation to go even harder on him. A few seconds later, Loqi was groaning and then growling out, forgetting the cute little moans and just letting out these hoarse sounds as he sat up a bit. “Fuck, _Cor,_ just…” and another frustrated sigh, like he didn’t even know what to ask. 

Loqi let himself drop again and tried rolling and pushing the hips against Cor, but Cor put a hand on his belly and pushed him down, holding him in place. It made Loqi squirm and hoarsely groan again, grabbing at the sheets and apparently not knowing what to do. By the time Cor noticed, he was getting hard again. He started stroking himself, kept Loqi down by the hip, and let his tongue let loose and free in Loqi’s butt. Loqi kept cursing and hissing at him, tried a few more times to press against him more, but Cor didn’t let him neither touch himself nor get too happy with this, until Loqi was properly kicking above his shoulders and whining out in both pleasure and, mostly and more pleasantly, impatience. As Loqi waved against him, Cor rolled the new condom onto himself and kept going as enthusiastic as before.

And just as Cor heard Loqi’s moan become weak and shaky and more frequent and his breath heavier and his inside tighter, Cor pulled apart a bit too suddenly. Loqi immediately whined in frustration and dropped down, hips rocking by reflex and hand flying to his cock, but Cor stopped him faster than he could.   
“No, Cor, I…” Loqi complained in pathetic little moans, but Cor kept his hands held until Loqi had calmed down and the wave of pre-orgasm had completely abandoned him. Loqi tried kicking him with poor luck, what with his trembling legs and overall vulnerable state. “Co-o-or!” he complained. “No!”

But Cor just smirked and chuckled at him. Loqi pouted and seemed to be about to tell him something very sassy, but Cor just stood back straight, pulled Loqi closer to the edge of the bed by the thighs, and put his tip inside. Loqi flinched at first, not even knowing when Cor had gotten rock-hard again and taken a bit off-guard, but soon letting himself drop again, sighing. Cor glanced at Loqi only for a moment. Loqi looked back and gave him a smug smile, at which Cor just looked away, taking it as encouragement but not wanting to give him the pleasure of keep smirking, and started pushing inside.

Loqi let out a long, low groan as Cor slipped in, until dropping back and letting out a hoarse ‘Gods, yes’ when Cor was balls deep again. Without even asking, Loqi lifted the legs back and to the sides, pulling out one of his flexible splits that made him look plain obscene and needy for cock. Not that Cor minded. Cor pulled him closer from the thighs again, bent over him, put a hand on the bed for support, and started thrusting in, already fast with no prior build-up or teasing. Cor himself panted with ghosts of moans echoing in every breath he let out, and Loqi just plain out enjoyed of being noisy like always. Cor stood straight back up, pulled Loqi from the hips, and kept them in his grip as he sped up, slamming into Loqi and enjoying of it.

Loqi, once more, tried to masturbate but Cor didn’t let him. Frustrated but mildly amused, Loqi complied and just watched as Cor’s strong, worked out and huge body slammed against his; the way his tummy tensed, highlighting the tight, sturdy set of muscles underneath, the way he tensed and breathed raggedly. Loqi looked away after a moment, a hand going up so he could bite down on a knuckle. Fuck, shit, it had been so long since he had had to struggle with not coming too soon, this was wonderful but maybe a bit _too_ wonderful. 

A couple minutes went like that, both panting and moaning together as Cor thrust into him and both enjoyed of the obvious size difference that made Cor seem and feel bigger than he was and Loqi tighter than he really was. The pace was frantic and needy, skin slamming against skin over and over. 

After a moment, panting and moaning in each breath, Cor slowed down for a bit, but Loqi had barely started complaining when Cor was grabbing him by the hips and pulling him slightly up. At first, Loqi was not sure what Leonis wanted, until Cor climbed onto the bed, dragged Loqi with him, and let himself drop on his back on the bed, dragging Loqi to be on top of him. Loqi stared at him a little puzzled, but as soon as he caught the drift, he chuckled and straddled Cor, knees going to the sides of his hips.  
“Ride me like the fucking whore you are” Cor hissed at him as he grabbed him by the hair again and pulled him down, meeting him into a raw, heavy kiss. Loqi’s hands went to lie on Cor’s chest and caress it, fast and unashamed, eager to feel everything that he could. After a moment, despite enjoying of the needy kiss, Cor made him pull away, and patted (sort of a soft slap? Loqi couldn’t tell the intention) his thigh like asking him to get on it.

Loqi giggled low and darkly to himself, smiling, as he moved back and sat up, looking back for Cor’s cock and grabbing it with his fingers like it was something fragile.   
“Just like the guy I told you-” Cor pinched his butt again, making Loqi half-yelp, stay quiet, and frown at him, pouting. “Stop doing that!”  
“Stop imagining other guys!”  
“Oh my _god,_ don’t be jealous!”  
“I’m not jealous” Cor rolled the eyes, and for what it was, he seemed sincere with that statement. “I just want you to focus on who’s fucking you right _now._ I’m not a sex dummy.”  
“Oh…I see” Loqi said as he looked and pulled himself up just enough, and adjusted himself in place, moving Cor’s cock around a bit until he could feel the tip at his entrance. He sighed and hummed pleasantly, and he started slowly lowering himself onto it. He hissed at first and pulled back up without letting Cor slip out, and started slipping back down again. He looked at Cor and gave him a feline smile. “Maybe I should let you know better that I _am_ thinking about you…”

Cor gazed all over him. That sensual smile and those eyes, heavy and dark and so _deep-rooted_ with lust, his gorgeous mouth, that beautiful silky hair already messy and out of its usual perfect doll-like state…his fair skin, so free of scars and soft like a damn cushion, perfect skin that seemed taken out of a model. Yes. Cor wanted that. Cor wanted Loqi to moan out his name more. He just wasn’t not going to tell him to not give him the pleasure of knowing how much Cor wanted it. Thankfully, Loqi seemed eager at the idea, biting his lower lip as he held eye contact with Cor while sitting down on his cock.

Once he was fully down, Loqi looked away to look back at his ass, sighing. He put a hand to one of his butt cheeks and pulled it, trying to get a glance of the way he was impaled on Cor. Good heavens, he was not going to tell him, but Cor was so fucking _big,_ it was perfect. It was not an unrealistic, porn-like monstrosity, but it was in no way average. Even the big ones Loqi had been with stayed short with this; they were either thick but short, average, or large but skinny. Cor, however, had a dick just like his entire body; broad, wide, large. He filled Loqi so _deliciously,_ and so much, it was breathtaking in every good way in the heavens. 

After a few slow thrusts, Cor slapped him between the thigh and his butt again, urging him. Loqi looked back at him, and he started speeding up, deciding to do as Cor and not tease or go step by step; as soon as he had a hold of it, he started bouncing on Cor fastly and eagerly. Loqi couldn’t help but moan out shakily when he, surprisingly, still didn’t want to; he loved riding dick, and he had already been fucked enough by Cor, and yet it was still so surprisingly pleasant to get to ride him. Loqi struggled at first with measuring how much he had to pull himself up, because it felt almost exaggerated; he had to pull way higher than he was used to, and Cor would still not slip out of him.   
It was as exquisite as it was overwhelming. Not that Loqi complained.

After a few moments, Loqi moved the hands back to get support on Cor’s legs behind him, just as Cor grabbed him by the hips, and so he sped up for real this time, having gotten a hold of it. He moved up and down at a frantic rhythm that seemed a little dumb but absolutely passionate into enjoying this.   
“Ah, shit- _Cor”_ Loqi moaned out, panted a few times, and let out a long whine before repeating. “Fuck, oh gods, Cor- Cor…!”

Cor looked up at him and let out a shaky breath. Yes. _Yes,_ gods yes, his name tumbling down Loqi’s lips was just _right._   
Loqi kept going for a good while, breathing out and moaning and calling Cor’s name as he bounced up and down on his cock. Cor either held his hips or let his hands stroke him all over the torso, toyed with the nipples, grabbed his butt and squeezed or pulled from the cheeks, making Loqi hum out in delight and moan a little louder, and going back to the nipples that, he figured, were sensitive. As soon as he let his fingers caress them slowly, so unlike Loqi’s fast, enthusiastic rhythm, Loqi moaned out and his eyelids fluttered as he bit down on his lower lip. Cor took the motivation and kept caressing his nipples, toying with them as he pleased and enjoying of the obvious delight in Loqi’s face while the blond only focused in riding him.

At some point, Cor pulled from the nipples and pinched them just ever so right. Loqi’s smile was long gone and he seemed much more into this, much closer to a climax as he sped up and breathed more heavily under Cor’s touch and his own frantic pace. He stopped calling Cor’s name to just let out monosyllabic noises and whines, and so, soon enough, Cor felt Loqi’s cock start leaking way too much pre-cum and spilling it on his tummy. Loqi tried to grab his cock, and Cor, like always, smacked his hand away.  
“Cor, no” Loqi whined out, yet, there was a slight smile on his shaky lips. He tried again, but Cor didn’t let him. Loqi threw the head back and bounced down onto him harder than before, on larger movements, letting out a hoarse, long moan. “F-f-fuck, Cor…!”

Loqi started moving the hips in circles. Cor moaned out as well and grabbed him by the hips, moving him faster to make Loqi catch the drift and speed up again.   
“Ah, shit” Cor moaned out as Loqi’s hips moved around like waves, and damn, could the guy move the hips. Whether it was experience or talent or both, all this time had been heaven because Loqi rode dick like Cor could only imagine the angels of orgasms did. He wasn’t just up and down, and even when he was, he moved just right, and now in circles it did but add to the already delicious sensations. “Fuck.”

Loqi retook the bouncing for a while, and like before, the bed’s headboard kept banging to the wall, the mattress squeaking, and the two becoming a sweaty, chaotic mess of desperate hands and precum everywhere.   
A minute later, Loqi stopped only to lean forwards. He placed his hands gently on Cor’s chest, adjusted himself, and he started riding him again by moving, this time, only the hips. Upper body staying still, Loqi’s bottom moved almost on its own, like Cor had only seen from those trending dancers. The position gave him even more speed, and Loqi took full advantage of it; he let his butt move up and slam back down, pulling and pushing his hips and going as fast as he could from the very beginning.

Loqi threw the head back and kept moaning, louder and louder. From his noises when Cor was fucking him against the wall and all across this second round, Cor was pretty sure that the neighbors were listening, and for once in his entire life, he honestly didn’t care. Fuck, he had been blue-balled for a _year,_ thirsty for this specific guy for a whole ass year while he kept getting teased over and over, and he was finally getting lucky, let the whole neighborhood hear if they wanted, damn it! And not just Loqi; Cor, too, had been noisy enough. He was normally shy about being vocal, but Loqi just…awakened this hungry, savage side of him that made him not care and be loud and moan out and curse.

“Ah, fuck- Cor, oh Cor” Loqi whined out loudly as he continued bouncing on him. At the way only his hips moved, and at such incredible speed, Cor moaned out loudly, near yelling, while his hands went down to grab Loqi’s butt. He squeezed and caressed it, spreading the cheeks apart and kept stroking them. At some point, not very sure if neither of them were into it, he slapped Loqi’s butt. The blond moaned and kept going, so Cor took it as motivation and repeated, only to go back to squeezing as Loqi rode him fast, frantic, hard and enthusiastic. 

When Cor felt Loqi’s hands try to sneak back to his cock, Cor grabbed his wrists and held them in one hand, so Loqi couldn’t use them. Loqi whined and closed the eyes, almost in distress, and slowed down.  
“I didn’t tell you to stop” Cor hissed at him, staring straight into his closed eyes and watching his every reaction, the shaky lip he was biting onto, the ecstasy and impatience and pure pleasure in his eyes when he blinked them open. Loqi sped up again, and his hands tried reacting, but Cor kept his wrists held. “Move. Keep going- yes, just like that” Cor breathed out, and so, Loqi retook his earlier pace that had the entire mattress moving and squeaking with them. “You like that more than I do, huh?”

Loqi didn’t reply. He continued, fast as he could, and even though he tried to keep biting his lip, he let go and whined out long and loud. Cor used his free hand to start pulling from one of his nipples again, and Loqi became a disaster of whines and moans. He seemed to try to say Cor’s name, but it came out breathless every time, and all noise he could manage was just that, noise, moaned or cried out.   
Cor watched him only for a moment, enjoying of the view, enjoying of the duality of Loqi enjoying so _much_ he wanted to come already, and the desperation of, ironically, enjoying it so much it was overwhelming.

Decided to make it worse for him, Cor let go of his wrists and pulled him closer. He wrapped his arms around Loqi’s waist, and just as the thief slowed down, Cor planted his soles firm on the mattress, and he started rocking the hips up, thrusting them even faster than Loqi had been able to move. Slamming in as deep as he could, with his balls slapping Loqi’s butt with each hit so hard the noise seemed to echo in the entire apartment, Cor kept him in place as he fucked him from underneath him, ardent, energetic, near obscenely, frantic and fully needy and wild like he was but basic instincts with no refrain.

Loqi threw the head back and let out a long and absolutely embarrassing whine. One of his hands flew up to try to cover his mouth, not out of shame but out of overwhelm, as he shut his eyes tight and the whine kept echoing from under his palm. Cor only kept slamming into him and hitting all the right places, massacring his sweet spot mercilessly, and all that Loqi could do with the biggest, most skilled and sweetest cock he had ever had in his life going so fantastically savage on him was keep whining so much that it turned into proper yelling and screaming.

He didn’t stop the screaming for as long as Cor fucked him, and soon, Loqi’s shoulders were shrugging, a bunch of senseless noises tumbled out of his mouth in a mix of hoarse and high pitched, long and short yells, all as full of pure arousal; he threw the head back, his eyelids fluttered, and like that, untouched, he came all over Cor’s tummy and chest, yelling for a bit before going breathless.   
Cor looked up at him while still fucking him, panting, breathless as well and tiring out, but enjoying of the sight. Loqi rode his orgasm through his body, that waved along him like a shock was going down his spine; he kept the head back, the eyelids fluttering and the eyes having rolled back, and that beautiful, stunning mouth that still had some reminiscences of Cor’s cum gorgeously open. 

It kept going for longer than Cor thought he would…and he only took it as motivation to speed up and fuck him even harder and faster. The motion made Loqi start whining low but desperate while he still rode his orgasm, and then, as he tried closing the mouth with poor success, a pair of tears escaped his eyes.   
Fuck, yes, this little brat deserved it. He had bragged about riding that other guy before, as, and after he came like he had tortured him, in a good, sexual way, with post-coming oversensitivity. Well, it was _his_ turn to be tortured just the same way. Deny his orgasm first, and when it finally hit, Cor kept fucking him as good and hard without giving him a break. 

For even longer than Cor had imagined could be real, Loqi stayed rather still on his spot, breathless and riding that orgasm, crying out in mere pleasure, before he just collapsed onto Cor.   
Too bad for him, Cor thought. He still had a way to go.   
Decided to give him enough of a break but not too much, Cor slowed down and stopped. Loqi was panting and apparently either drooling or crying a bit on him.   
“Those tears are good?” Cor did take a moment to ask in a breath. He heard Loqi just whine, so Cor pinched him again. Despite how much he seemed to hate it, this time Loqi didn’t complain. He just took a moment before he was humming in confirmation. 

Needing no more, Cor stopped and pulled himself out of Loqi. The thief whined but didn’t reply, netiher physically nor verbally. Cor slipped out from underneath him, and Loqi just dropped on the bed. The cop sat up and moved until he was on his knees behind Loqi and between his legs. He grabbed him by the hips and pulled them up, only for a moment glancing down at Loqi’s entrance. It was wider open than normal, and he could see Loqi tighten and release. From the hips, and ever so easily like the guy weighed nothing, Cor pulled him back to him, making Loqi whine gently, and soon, Cor was slipping himself inside again after a few strokes on his own cock. 

Loqi moaned out as Cor pushed himself fully inside, but didn’t respond. Cor smiled to himself. Well, well, the little brat quiet for once besides those beautiful moans.   
Seems like someone had already won before even finishing.

Once fully inside, Cor waited a few moments pulling in and out rather gently, just to see a reaction. Instead of being as enthustiastic as before, Loqi just stayed thrown on his tummy, head to a side, and moaning quietly along Cor’s movements. The most he felt him do, besides tightening around him, was try to circle the hips but giving up soon, clearly trembling. Cor tried to contain a chuckle and only smiled, and so, he planted himself better on his knees, grabbed Loqi’s hips, and he started fucking him again just as frantically as before; thrusting his own hips, but also pulling from Loqi’s with each thrust. 

It went on for a good while. Loqi didn’t join in, and just let Cor use him; use him like he was but the sex dummy Cor had refused to be, like a toy Cor was just going to fuck as he pleased, because Loqi just didn’t have the energy anymore. Cor was on full control; of his own movements and Loqi’s.   
He fucked him as fast as he could. Loqi just quietly moaned, tiredly, whereas Cor moaned out like he was on the receiver end; enjoying a bit too much, and enjoying of that enjoyment. He grunted and grabbed Loqi’s hips hard enough to be sure to possibly leave a mark, not on purpose, but on the mere, wild desire to keep pulling him as hard as he wanted to slam into him with every hit.

All of Cor’s muscles were tense, and he was starting to sweat for real like instead of fucking he was working out. He breathed out shakily, panted and moaned, and slowed down for a moment to again trade speed for strength, and fucking into Loqi slow and hard; Loqi’s hips moved up almost exaggeratedly with every hit and stayed up until Cor pulled back, and again, and again, pushing the rest of him against the mattress hard and shameless. Then, Cor retook his earlier speed. Enjoying of the telltale noise of skin on skin, Cor kept going panting and moaning as he fucked Loqi, enjoying of the view of his heart-shaped ass, all for him, against him, reddish and so round and firm, and the sight of the rest of his lean, beautiful body against the mattress, under him, exposed and all his. 

Despite Loqi having come already a while ago and doing but lie there, Cor kept going for as long as he could still go, not having mercy and fucking Loqi as hard as he had never fucked anyone before.   
Some minutes later, Cor was speeding up even more. Loqi’s hips had moved up only from the thrusts and he was sort of on his knees, head to the pillow, except the only thing that kept his hips up was Cor himself holding him and fucking him like a desperate. With a few sweat drops and Loqi’s cum slipping down his torso, Cor moaned out loudly and unashamed, fucking Loqi like the world was ending, breathless, panting, almost unable to catch his own breath, and that rush of adrenaline, blood and ecstasy all travelling throughout his body and down his belly.

Just as he was feeling it, moaning obscenely, Cor threw the head back, let himself go until the very last moment, and he pulled out just in time so he, in a swift movement, rolled out the condom, and he came onto Loqi’s ass and thighs very much on purpose. He could have come in the condom. He chose not to.   
Moaning, Cor kept masturbating and letting himself spill on Loqi’s pretty thighs and beautiful, firm ass. It took him a while, too, to just ride out his orgasm; shrinking into himself, moaning more than he was used to, absolutely breathless, and almost unable to open the eyes from the orgasm that kept going even after his last spill of cum came out. 

And that was it.  
Brutal and everything that he had dreamed of and better and more. 

After staying a few moments on his knees behind Loqi, panting and letting out his last moans, Cor tried catching his breath, swallowing and easing his breath.   
Soon, he crawled back to the top of the bed and dropped onto his back, next to Loqi, who had yet not moved.

The two stayed thrown on the bed, Cor face-up and Loqi facedown. Loqi seemed to have already relaxed, mostly, breath easy but slightly shaky still, while Cor breathed heavily and tried to recover.   
None said anything. 

Some minutes later, Cor laid on his bed, completely relaxed, with Loqi half-lying on him. Loqi’s head was on one of his shoulders, and he had one of his hands on Cor’s chest, lying there gently and almost sweetely, and one of his legs was between Cor’s, apparently limp and numb. Even though Loqi had not asked that from him when he snuggled up against Cor, Cor still had wrapped an arm around him, his hand oh so gently, and not afraid to be sweet, was stroking Loqi’s messy hair gently, like not wanting to touch his scalp out of fear of making Loqi feel hypersensitivity, senseless as it could be. 

And the two spent just a good while like that, snuggled up after sex, not having cleaned up and not caring, and just…breathing together.  
Cor was staring at the ceiling, a little thoughtful. Loqi kept the eyes closed, not having opened them even when he had snuggled to Cor, and this loose, happy, dreamy smile. 

After about forty minutes just snuggled, Cor took in a deep breath and let it out slowly.  
“Hey, Loqi?” he called. All he got was a sleepy but happy ‘Hm?’ by response. Cor took a moment to measure how pathetic he would sound and how humiliating it was, but ended up not really minding. “How did you do that?” and because Loqi stayed quiet, he clarified. “Stealing Regis’ ring. I still haven’t figured it out.”

Loqi laughed and of course he would. Cor would have, too, were the roles inverted. It almost felt absurd to ask, like they had just had this brutal hate sex as mutual punishment for an earlier fight, and Cor was now friendly asking what the fight was about. He gave Loqi a few moments to laugh, and he thought he wouldn’t reveal it. To his surprise, Loqi let out a dreamy sigh like saying ‘Oh well’, and went on to explain.  
“Your Mayor has this horrible habit of taking off his ring at parties to show them to people” Loqi explained to him without taking his head off Cor’s shoulder or looking up at him. Cor, however, wasn’t glancing either, just staring at the ceiling with furrowed eyebrows. “I saw him do that in some parties for the past couple years. So, I thought that, one day, there would be an opening; I asked a friend for a copy ring, and we painted it with cheap paint that would come off with a mix of water and alcohol.”

Would explain the sprinklers going off, Cor guessed, back in the office Regis was in. It wasn’t distraction. It was the liquid mix to take the paint off the ring, hence why it “turned” from its trait black to a common, dull grey.   
“So I just waited for that opening” Loqi sighed calmly. One of his fingers stroked little circles on Cor’s chest, gently. “At the last party both my family and the Lucis Caelum were invited, I hung around him enough to keep him in sight range, but far enough so he would either not notice me or just shrug off my presence” Cor nodded, following the scene in his imagination. “So at some point, your mayor is talking with these people, laughing and being dorks, and he takes off his ring.”

“I might pass it down to my son as a new family treasure if I do get to keep it” Regis was telling his companions with a wide and very sweet smile, like he did every time he brought up the subject of his son. 

“So my friend pretended to bump into him from behind by accident.”

And Regis accidentally let the ring drop from the hit. His companions gasping, all of their eyes turned down to the floor to follow the little ring as it rolled away of them, between walking and dancing feet, getting easily lost amongst them…  
“And getting it was really just easier than snatching candy from kids. Have you ever tried to take a candy from a kid? They’re fucking savage.”

…and, looking very subtly, Loqi stopped the ring by stepping on it, at the time he let the fake one drop from his pocket and keep rolling while he stood there, casually, pretending to not have noticed, and just in time as the mayor appeared, not paying him any mind as Loqi was giving him his back and was just a guest more that was no highlight from the rest, and he took the ring from the floor.  
“Got it!” the mayor cheered like he had dropped a coin and not the fucking ring of the Lucii, laughing and going back to his companions, and putting on the very much fake ring, while Loqi, smiling darkly and smugly to himself, put the real one in a finger of his own inside his pocket.

“Your mayor had been wearing a fake for a _month”_ Loqi said among amused chuckles. “That _dork.”_  
Cor sighed and took a moment to process it before answering.  
“I knew you must have swapped them before the heist” Cor said. “I just didn’t know when. The fact that Regis went on so long without noticing…”  
“He’s super smart when it comes to the big important stuff” Loqi nodded. “Just…a dork for everything else.”

…yeah. It wasn’t like Loqi was wrong.   
They both went silent again. A fake for a whole month. That was way before the heist. Indeed, it was before Loqi even announced his retirement and heist. Loqi had already had the ring in his possession for a couple days by the time he announced it. Wow. Cor had to give it to him, he was very sly. Except he was not going to give it to him, so he didn’t say it.

It took another while in sience. A lonely cricket sang outside the window, and everything was quiet and peaceful in the dark, moonlit night.   
And so, again, after a moment, Cor kept staring at the ceiling and threw a question.  
“And how did you do it?” he asked again. “That one last trick. Turning to cards and everything.”  
Loqi laughed.  
“That’s my biggest and most awesome trick, I’m not going to spoil that one” Loqi said as if either complaining or nagging him, and even though none were looking at the other, Cor could feel his wide smile. Pleased and enjoying of the attention, thriving in Cor’s interest in him. “A great magician doesn’t reveal his tricks. I’ll let you have any other, just not that one.”

Cor replied with a little hum and both stayed quiet for some seconds again. That is, of course, until Cor’s curiosity kept him going; it was as if though now that they had finally let all that sexual tension out, Cor didn’t genuinely, honestly care about his entire three years of hatred and rivalry and fighting and just went ahead to ask as curious as he had always been and just refused to accept until now.  
“Say, the card” Cor said as if choosing the one trick he wanted to decipher. “How did you know which card I picked _and_ the signature? It was one I’d never used before, and I kept the card literally on me all the time. Like…inside my clothes.”  
“There was a camera on the lamppost behind you when I made you sign it” Loqi said as calmly and purr-like as before. “Just saw the tape, made a copy.”  
“And how?” he asked, and the way he started with questions that weren’t clear enough, Loqi chuckled to himself. “All the tricks and…like, literally everything. You couldn’t have done it alone” and after a pause, Cor looked down at him. “Could you?”

Feeling the stare, Loqi finally, after almost that entire hour, opened the eyes and looked up at him. The two stared at each other for a moment before Loqi was looking down again, smiling and sighing.  
“No, of course not” he replied. “I was honestly just the actor. You were right at suspecting of Aranea” Cor cursed in a little, but rather lazy breath. “She’d help with planning the acrobacies and jumps and areas” Loqi stopped toying with his chest and just let his arm fall limp and lazy across it. “And we have two genius friends. They’re always hanging with us, but, becase unlike Aranea and I, they’re not from rich families, they go kinda under the radar. Biggs and Wedge. Seriously, one day one of us will write a book about DeMasque and they’ll have to get the credit, they’re just…the masterminds behind this working.”

Cor pouted just very slightly. Oh, yeah? The master minds, eh? All this info, and Cor couldn’t use it anymore. It was a bit of a bitter defeat, but he didn’t really feel bad about it.   
“Wedge is an informatics genius, so he’d make the hacking and all, and he’s also very smart so he would be the main strategist for the heists” Loqi continued explaining. “And Biggs is a genius and master of props and all the magic; the pulley systems, the walking on air, the vanishing mid-air, it’s all him. Honestly, that man is a magician by nature, he can make the greatest magic tricks with just a wooden stick and a handkerchief if that’s all you give him.”

Cor hummed out in response, like saying ‘I see’, and processing the info. Both stayed quiet again. Loqi contained a happy breath in the chest, and Cor continued absentmindedly caressing his arm up and down, enjoying of how firm the muscles felt, yet how soft the skin was.   
“Say, Loqi” Cor called again after a while, his free hand going to the back of his own head to rest it on his palm. “And your parents? They _were_ covering for you…” and almost fearfully, he added, “…right?”  
“Oh, no, they really do believe in the whole ‘fan number one’ thing” Loqi answered straight away lightheartedly like it was just any topic. Cor’s eyebrows furrowed again and he stared into the ceiling near praying for this to be a lie. With another little breath, Loqi continued. “When this whole thing started, I was like, not sure how I’d hide it from them…so I decided not to.”

Loqi pulled the head up and the arms only a little, so he rested both hands on Cor, his chin on his hands, and smiled up at him. Cor looked back, calm.  
“You know, the best place to hide something is by putting it right in front of everyone’s eyes” Loqi gave him a smart and smug smile as he explained, like he knew himself smarter than everyone. Cor just stared patient for once. “So that I did; I kept my costume right in view and all the merchandise and stuff, but, so they wouldn’t force me to drop this or go to the police, I told them I just had all that stuff because…” he shrugged. “I was ‘Mask DeMasque’s fan number one’” he laughed a little before going on. “So that way, I had nothing to hide because…well, people can’t find what you don’t hide.”  
“…but how did they buy that, oh my gods?” Cor breathed out, and the way he sounded so defeated and disappointed sounded like he had given up all faith in humankind. At that, Loqi laughed again while Cor just stared at the ceiling with a mental crisis. “It’s such a lame excuse, they had literally everything in front of their eyes and you sneaking out on the nights DeMasque was stealing and they still believed the whole fan number one thing? Astrals help me, oh my gods, how, how can you buy something so dumb and illogical?” 

Loqi laughed again for a moment before replying.   
“They just love me so much” he said as he leaned his head to a side. “My parents are good people but they get _so_ easily blinded when it’s about me. Everything I tell them, they believe” he shrugged again. “I could tell them the sky is red and they would go the rest of their lives believing it” he rested his head again on Cor’s shoulder, and he said faking cuteness, “I’m their little spoiled baby boy.”

Cor did roll his eyes this time at him, but couldn’t help a little smile as Loqi chuckled. Well, someone knew how to take everything to his vantage, eh? Loqi saw his strict parents and instead of an obstacle, he saw chances. No wonder this guy was so popular, besides for his looks. He was pretty bright.   
“Oi, speaking of my parents, I know how you can make them stop hate you” Loqi brought up out of nowhere. One of Cor’s eyebrows twitched and he asked a low ‘what’ among chuckles while looking down at Loqi. “Tomorrow evening when you take me home, you’ll tell them that I was held up in this half-kidnap half-robbery with these violent, scary criminals” as he spoke, Cor chuckled again and again asked a low ‘what’. “And you appeared just in time and pew, pow, you save the day and my beautiful life, but in the fray my poor, defenseless and vulnerable ass took a bad hit to my lower back, so that’s why I’ll be walking funny for a day or two and why you’re at their door, with this beautiful prince in your arms, just rescued and pampered” Cor couldn’t help but laugh a little more, shaking the head. “And I’ll speak for like three days of how you saved me and how brave you were and how gentle and kind you treated me and they’ll love you so much they’ll almost want you to marry me. How about that?”

Cor spent a few moments just chuckling more.  
“But why would we do that?” Cor asked with a smile. “I don’t care about your parents hating me.”  
“Well, but you’ll need an excuse as to why you’re bringing me home in arms.”  
“And why would I do _that?”_ Cor asked.   
_“Because”_ Loqi started like it was obvious, pulling up on his elbows and looking at Cor, “I don’t know if you noticed, but you weren’t exactly ‘gentle’, Cor Leonis. I am _so_ not going to be able to even sit up in the morning” and while Cor snorted and laughed and told him to not exaggerate, Loqi went on. “Seriously! I’m already sore, tomorrow morning I’ll want to die from how bad my butt hurts!”  
“Don’t be such a drama queen” Cor laughed at him. “It was good but it’s not realistic.”  
“Not realistic?” Loqi asked and dropped his jaw for a moment, then rolled his eyes at him. “Cor Leonis, you’re _very_ much not aware of your damn size, are you?” and before Cor could complain, Loqi went on. “Or mine! Shiva dear, you _destroyed_ me, of course you’ll have to carry me home!”

Cor just laughed for a moment more, shaking the head and looking away. Once more, both fell into silence again for a while. Loqi moved back down to not stand on his elbows on Cor and went back to snuggle him, head on his shoulder and an arm across his chest.   
“Cor” Loqi whined out low and long, like a lazy tantrum. “I want to marry your dick.”  
Cor snorted and laughed a bit awkwardly for a moment.  
“It was good, wasn’t it?”  
“I’d never orgasmed so long and so hard in my life” Loqi said dreamily. Surprisingly, he felt Cor nod and heard him murmur a sincere ‘same’. He let a few moments pass to smile and feel proud of himself, thriving in that sensation. “And I think at some point I dry orgasmed, too. I’d never dry orgasmed. And you’re so thick and big and-”

Loqi went on to praise Cor’s cock and the way he used it, and all that Cor could do was laugh and blush and try to cover his face with a hand while letting Loqi go on about everything he had loved about that night.   
“And that’s why I’ll marry your dick” Loqi finished. Cor laughed lowly again for a while, hand still stroking the small thief’s arm.  
“Yeah, it was insane” Cor said with a little nod, staring at the ceiling again. “You ride dick like you were programmed to do only that. And you suck it just as good.”

Loqi let out a long and low whine of tantrum again.  
“If I wasn’t so sore and worn out and fucking destroyed I’d want to go again” he whined out still lazy and in tantrum.   
“Good, because I can’t go again” Cor sighed. “I’m not in my thirties anymore. And I won’t give you the satisfaction of getting some when I don’t.”  
“Don’t be like that” Loqi said amongst little chuckles. “You, meanie.”  
“You tortured me for three years, you won the whole stupid cop-thief thing, let me have my victories my own way.”

Loqi only laughed in response, not looking up or moving from his spot. Cor spent a few moments in silence before looking down at the thief in his arms.  
“You’re not staying the night, are you?”  
“I told you” Loqi said as he sighed sleepily, as if he had already made himself comfortable for the rest of the night. “No way I can move. It’s your fault” and so, Loqi pressed a little, chaste kiss to Cor’s chest and snuggled closer to him. “If you snore I kill you.”

Cor stared at him only for some moments. He cursed him in a mutter, and laid back on his pillow, reminding Loqi that he hated him.  
Still, a few moments later Cor was standing up to pull the sheets down and from underneath Loqi’s limp, naked body, and tucked himself and Loqi in, not complaining more than just a threat on Loqi to not hog the blankets or he would murder him.

\--

Dawn outside awakened birds and people the same, and the rays of light started peering in through the windows of all houses, apartments and buildings of the city. Some minutes after the sun had first peeked out from behind the skyline, the morning light started slipping its way through Cor’s window and curtain.

The rays of light traveled through the floor of Cor’s room, which was covered of scattered clothes all over; Cor’s night sweatpants and shirt mixed and spread along a shiny, extravagant green tailcoat, a pair of bright red boots, a hat with a long feather, and tight white pants thrown somewhere away, forgotten and still clean. 

Cor was the first to wake up to some of the sun shining on his face. Having forgotten to fully close the curtains last night, Cor blinked his eyes open at the sensation of light, and he could do but take in a large, deep breath and sleepily let it out. He blinked rapidly a couple times, eyebrows furrowed, as he brought himself awake. 

Minutes later, he looked down at the weight and warmth next to him.   
Loqi, asleep and refusing to let the sun wake him up, was snuggling closer against Cor’s chest as if to hide from the sun. Cor looked down at him and smiled. One of his hands went up and stroked Loqi’s hair, and soon, Loqi was blinking lazily but rapidly as he brought himself awake. It took a couple tries and some minutes before Loqi was trying again, yawning out loud, and apparently coming to his senses. 

The first thing he did when he woke up to a chest on his face was look up with bright eyes and a hopeful smile. Cor’s smile widened when they made eye contact.  
“Hey” Cor greeted casually, voice still low and raspy from waking up.  
“Hey-” Loqi tried greeting back, but he blinked in surprise as if taken off-guard, eyebrows going up and mouth going shut with just a little ‘Ooh’ noise. One of Loqi’s hands went up and started caressing his own jaw while he tried clearing his throat.   
“What’s wrong?” Cor asked him.  
“My gods” he heard Loqi murmur, still sleepy. “My jaw is sore like _hell.”_

Cor was about to ask why the jaw, but he stopped before speaking, let his brain process it, and then he chuckled and couldn’t help but feel himself turning red in the face.  
“Oh” Cor said. “Didn’t think about that last night when we did it.”  
“Oh my gods” Loqi kept saying as he opened his mouth as little as possible, still caressing his jaw. “Cor, you savage.”

Cor could do but blush again and laugh lowly. He let a few moments go on, before Loqi let go of his jaw and took in a deep breath, letting it out happily and like saying ‘well, what can I do’ and letting it go.   
“Well” Loqi said as he pushed Cor gently to make him roll onto his back. “I guess I’ll only forgive you with morning sexy times.”

Loqi tried rolling onto him to straddle him, but as soon as he lifted his leg, he let out a little yelp and let himself drop back on his side, letting out startled and slightly loud ‘Oh’s as he rolled onto his back and seemed to be trying to ride through some sensation.  
“Oh, _fuck”_ Loqi said after a while and started laughing in a mix of nervousness and amusement, like disbelief. Cor rolled onto his side to look at him, a little concerned. “Fuck, Cor, I’m _super sore.”_

And Loqi just…burst out laughing. He moved a leg a little, letting it drop to a side and hissing at the way it burnt, and he laughed about it.   
Cor saw him for a moment quiet and a bit confused, like not knowing how to react.

The young man that had given him so much and so many troubles for three entire years lying naked at his side, laughing after failing at trying to sit on him for being sore for hard sex the previous night. The young man Cor hated, despised, who he had loathed for so long, so hard, hating to be anywhere near him or know anything about him.  
Hating his laugh. The laugh that Loqi had used to mock him and humiliate him for three entire excruciatingly long years, hearing it over and over every time he lost, the laugh that echoed in his life and his dreams to torture him to insomnia and existencial crisis and episodes of rage and frustration. 

It was the same laugh Loqi laughed right now. Cor looked at him as he laughed, stared for a moment. Loqi’s bright hair looking brighter in the morning sunlight, and his face, roundish and beautiful. His eyes happily closed, his long, pretty eyelashes almost resting on top of his cheeks. And his mouth, for once not sexy or sensual, and just…smiling. A wide happy grin, sincere and joyful, and with no trace of malice or that smartass attitude. Just a happy laugh of amusement and fun. 

Cor smiled.

He leaned close to press his lips to Loqi’s. At first, Loqi tried to answer the kiss with one of his, both doing but press a chaste peck to each other’s lips…but, soon, Loqi started smiling, and the absurdity of being unable to stop laughing in a kiss made him snort and start laughing again.   
Cor smiled widely and sighed. He leaned close to pepper a few chaste kisses on Loqi’s face, while Loqi put his hands to Cor’s face like trying to push him away but not really even trying, as he kept laughing even though he was trying to stop. 

At some point Cor couldn’t help but start chuckling as well, asking ‘But why are you laughing’, which seemed to only make Loqi keep going even though he shook the head and promised to not even know. 

Cor decided to just let him have that silly laugh, a laugh that, for once, didn’t make him feel like it marked his defeat.  
Mask DeMasque may have won the three years long competition and rivalry and Cor’s utter life obsession.

But, just with Loqi laughing and being a dork, naked, hugged to him and him hugged to Loqi, Cor couldn’t help but feel like a champion, too, and like this was a victory for the two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -  
> -
> 
> Thank you SO MUCH for reading!!!
> 
> I'm so happy this is out. 9 chapters were written like a year and half ago and I kept them in halt until just now.
> 
> This fic was an absolute delight for me to write and one of the most fun I've ever done. Getting to write for a sassy fun Loqi was as wonderful as having Cor be the one losing every time, and self-indulging into including my favorite Ace Attorney anti-hero/villain and the concept of Phantom Thief that I love so much was WONDERFUL!
> 
> Thank you so much if you read this, for the time and dedication. 
> 
> And thank you for the support!! I would love to know what you think about this, if you enjoyed, what your favorite bits were, if you can and want. ❤︎
> 
> Thank you again!
> 
> PS: I feel I forgot something...add a note somewhere...hnngnh...I'll figure it out at some point lmao


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